Eyes of Fire
by Whatever Makes You Break
Summary: What if Morgana had saved Merlin in the very beginning, sealing their bond? Would Merlin be able to return the favor when Morgana's greatest foe becomes herself, or are our destinies really set in stone? Canon pairings.
1. Chapter 1: The Dragon's Call Part 1

_**Chapter One**_

_The Dragon's Call  
(Part One)_

–

_I know not what the future holds,  
but I know who holds the future. _

–

Arthur collapsed onto Morgana's freshly made bed, casually placing his hands behind his head to prop up his head to look lazily at the ceiling. The flaxen-haired prince yawned loudly and repositioned his head to peer over at Morgana, who had been staring silently out the window for several minutes. Her green eyes remained determined, gazing despondently onto the courtyard. Arthur could hear the gentle echo of his father's stalwart voice in the distant. The subtle beating of drums humming in his ears, Thomas Collins was to be executed any minute now. He had been discovered to have practiced magic, and death was the only suitable punishment. Morgana released a heavy sigh, closing her eyes thoughtfully for a moment.

"Quit acting so morose," said Arthur, rolling his eyes and returning his attention towards the ceiling through Morgana's sheer overhanging curtains. "You're ruining my good mood."

"Well, I'm ever so pleased you can remain in such good spirits whilst an innocent man is about to lose his head," said Morgana sarcastically, glaring at him momentarily before peering down below again.

"He was caught practicing witchcraft, Morgana," he replied. "He is far from innocent."

"He wasn't hurting anyone," she insisted as the executioner heaved his large ax over his head. She cringed and turned her chin against her opposing shoulder, slamming her eyes closed as tight as she possibly could. A sickening _THUD_ rang out, several townspeople gasped before an eerie silence overtook the courtyard.

"Yet," Arthur corrected her, pointing his index finger upwards, utterly unaffected by the beheading below.

"You sound like your father," she replied as if that was the biggest insult she'd ever delivered. Arthur looked pleased, unaware of her hostility. "That's not a compliment, so wipe that cheeky grin off your face."

Morgana finally brought herself to look down at the podium that had just been cleaned of Thomas Collins' blood. She looked into the crowd, several people looked rather content whilst others appeared frightened and disapproving. Not everyone feared the art of magic, though Uther liked to pretend they did. There was one male towns person that Morgana had never seen before. It wasn't as if she had met every citizen in Camelot, not by a long shot but she knew for a fact that this person had never laid eyes upon before. Even though she was far above the townspeople below, the piercing blue eyes of the young man managed to grasp her attention. He wore commoners clothing, a knapsack upon his tall frame, his somewhat shaggy hair hanging in his eyes. Suddenly, he turned his gaze upwards, catching her eye. His expression was kind, musing even. Morgana blushed slightly, hoping her rosy cheeks remained unnoticeable from so far away. She cleared her throat abruptly and stared determinedly back at Uther who was just about to walk back inside the castle from his balcony.

Suddenly, an elderly woman appeared amidst the crowd, several people cleared away from her. She had stringy gray hair to her shoulders and an attire of ragged robes that looked as if they hadn't been washed in years and that was a generous estimation. She was unsteady in stature, her balance questionable.

"There is only one evil in this land and it is not magic, it is you," cried the woman in a shrill, broken sort of voice. "Your hatred and your ignorance, you took my son."

"Arthur," Morgana called quietly but fiercely, so the prince did not misunderstand her seriousness.

Arthur hastily threw his feet over the side of the bed, swiftly striding to Morgana's side. He followed her line of sight, listening intently with a mindful expression that matched the king's ward. The woman continued as before.

"I promise you before the celebrations are over you will share my tears," she threatened. "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a son for a son."

Morgana looked up at Arthur just as he turned to her as well. Neither of the elites spoke to one another. They knew exactly what the other was thinking, making words unnecessary. They'd been friends for two decades, if they didn't understand one another's thoughts by now they never would. Arthur's face was not frightened, more ill at ease. Morgana swallowed hard, tearing away from his eyes to return to the scene below as did Arthur.

"Seize her!" Uther bellowed, pointing his guards towards the old woman.

However, before the king's men could capture the woman, she muttered indistinguishable into the necklace around her neck. An overwhelming gust of wind engulfed her body as she disappeared into a whirlwind of debris. The king looked rather perturbed, clutching his cape and hurrying inside the castle walls. Morgana cast one final glance upon the unknown commoner with the fierce blue eyes before closing her window and turning to Arthur who was grabbing his jacket off her bedpost and heading for the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked poignantly.

"To see Father," he replied. "I'm sure he'll be anxious to gather a search party to capture Thomas's sorceress mother before the feast this evening. I'll see you there. Wear your blue gown, it accents my eyes–"

"No," she interrupted.

"Fine, wear what you want," he conceded, "just make me look good–"

"First off, I'm not going to the feast at all this evening, I refuse," she said with venom on her tongue. "Second off, even if I was I would certainly not go with the likes of you. I wish you would quit assuming you will be my escort to every event."

"Why aren't you attending?' he inquired, ignoring her second retort.

"There is something disconcerting about celebrating a beheading," she replied curtly. "I know you cannot empathize. I will not attend the feast of the Great Purge either."

"Father will not be pleased," he argued.

"He's always displeased about something. I honestly think he enjoys it," she frowned. "I'm quite certain he'll be happy I've given him a reason to be sulky."

Arthur smirked at her wit and closed the door behind him.

–

"_Merlin..." a voice called to him. "Merlin..."_

Merlin deducted a dream had woken him along with the warm sunlight upon his pale features. The previous day's evens raced into his head, specifically one image in particular. Those eyes, her eyes, they were etched into his memory. A faint grin spread slowly across Merlin's face as he rolled onto his back, just waking from his slumber atop his makeshift bed provided by Gaius, the court physician. He was in an exciting new place, in the palace of one of the most powerful kings around no less, yet he couldn't concentrate on anything other than the nameless raven-haired beauty. She'd even looked at him, at _him_!

He stretched, arching his back before slowly pushing himself into a sitting position. Rubbing his forehead, Merlin yawned softly and took to his feet. He quickly changed his clothes and exited his tiny bedroom to share some of the revolting-looking breakfast mush that Gaius had provided for him. Merlin couldn't complain, it was the thought that counted.

"I brought you some water," said Gaius kindly. "You forgot to wash last night."

"Right, thank you," Merlin muttered in reply, scooping up some oatmeal mush and debating whether or not he could stomach it.

Amidst his contemplation Gaius knocked over the wooden bucket containing his water. Merlin automatically stood and without thinking, he stopped the bucket from falling to the floor, freezing it in midair. He regretted his reaction instantly after hearing a slight gasp from Gaius. Merlin allowed the water to splatter onto the floor as quickly as he had prevented the spill.

"How did you do that?" asked Gaius fiercely. "Did you incant a spell in your mind?"

"I don't know any spells," he insisted, shaking his head.

"What did you do?" he inquired curiously. "There must be something."

He'd expected such a question. Any person in their right mind would wonder how someone as undeniably average, boring even as Merlin could do something so miraculous without so much effort as a blink. Merlin looked down at the liquid mess, finding the words for a response to the aging court physician. He only had one reply.

"It just happens," said Merlin honestly, locking eyes with the aging man in a way that convinced Gaius there was nothing but truth in his answer.

"Well, we better keep you of of trouble," said Gaius, watching as the young man mopped away the water. "You can help me until I find some paid work for you. Here, Holly Hock for Lady Percival and this is for Sir Oweyn. He's as blind as a weevil, so tell him not to take it all at once."

"Alright," Merlin nodded, placing the fallen bucket onto a nearby table and returning the now sopping wet mop to its proper resting place. He picked up the two vials of opposing colors of liquid and eyed them curiously for a moment. When he looked up again Gaius was holding a delicious-looking sandwich that put his breakfast mush to shame. Merlin smiled thankfully and accepted the sandwich to eat on his way to complete his chores. "Thanks, Gaius."

"Off you go," Gaius smirked, shrugging a shoulder. The young sorcerer grinned and walked towards the door. Stopping only when he heard his name from the physician behind him. "And Merlin, I'm sure I don't need to tell you that the practice of _any_ form of enchantments will get you killed."

Merlin swallowed hard, nodding once. He knew this already. He knew the King's history, The Great Purge. _Everyone_ knew about that. Everyone knew that just after the Queen died in childbirth King Uther took out his rage on those of magical association. The details to exactly why Uther sought out sorcerers were unknown, but no one was foolish enough to inquire further.

–

"Of course he was angry," said Morgana in an exasperated tone, looking over to Guinevere as they strolled around the castle grounds together. "Uther took it upon himself to tear himself away from the feast to shout at me in person. I think he'd literally burn me at the stake if I refused to attend the ball celebrating the Great Purge."

"I think Arthur would be rather perturbed as well," Gwen smiled mischievously.

"I know what you're trying to imply, Gwen," she replied, "and I sternly disapprove."

"Come now, Morgana," she teased. "You're telling me that if Arthur asked to be your escort you'd deny him the honor?"

"He won't ask me, so it doesn't matter," she said.

"Hypothetically speaking..."

"If he asked," she said firmly, "_nicely_, mind you. I might consider it."

Gwen smiled knowingly. Arthur and Morgana were as good as engaged in the eyes of Camelot. They were both royalty, they were both handsome and unattached, and both were destined to be the greatest King and Queen Camelot could ever hope for. Many townspeople wondered daily when the royal wedding would be announced whilst Arthur and Morgana acted rather indifferent to the subject. They'd always been together without actually being together. Titles were never really for the two royals. They went to most feasts and ball with one another even if they ended up leaving with someone else. The duo pretty much had an understanding that they were supposed to marry, supposed to bare a litter of proud sons, and they were supposed to live happily ever after. They were just waiting for the day Uther forced them together. Neither could decide if they were anxiously awaiting and dreading the day that would come.

"My Lady, I must tend to your linens before this evening comes," said Gwen thoughtfully. "Would you like me to see that one of the knights escorts you into town?"

"Thank you, Gwen, but that isn't necessary," she smiled kindly at her dear friend. "I think I could use a relaxing stroll with just me and my thoughts."

"Will this stroll end up taking you to Arthur's training session?" asked Gwen wisely.

"Perhaps," said Morgana with a fleeting smile. "You know how my mind tends to wander."

–

"Where's the target?" shouted Arthur, smiling pompously in front of his knights.

"There, sire?"

Arthur was in the middle of his daily training sessions amongst his men. A young servant, Mylor, held the prince's shield, awaiting his next command obediently. He was an awkward fellow, not unaccustomed to fumbling over himself like the gangly teenager he was. He was typically picked upon by Arthur and the knights for his lack of grace on his feet. Merlin could relate to such a trait. It was not uncommon for him to trip over himself, especially in front of the fairer sex.

Merlin instantly picked up on the boy's awkwardness the boy exhumed from every pore. He had just finished the tasks Gaius had set out for him and had intentions of exploring the city before he actually had real responsibilities from whatever work Gaius would find for him. However, his plans were delayed when he laid eyes on some blonde idiot that he deduced to be a guard, judging by his armor and surrounding party of knights. Merlin allowed his curiosity to get the better of him as he chose to casually look onto the scene before him.

"It's to the sun," said Arthur, his usual arrogant grin decorating his handsome features.

"It's not that bright," said Mylor uneasily.

"A bit like you, then?" Arthur jested with an upward inflection.

The group around him roared with laughter. Sir Leon patted his back, appreciative of his joke. Merlin rolled his eyes, taking an instant dislike to the blonde git.

"I'll take it to the other side then," Mylor sighed, heaving the heavy wooden target onto his shoulder to lug it to another position out of the sun.

Morgana rounded the corner beyond the entrance to the courtyard near the castle gate. She spotted Arthur across the way, laughing hardily beside Sirs Bedivere, Leon and Pellinor, his usual immature confidants. Though more importantly, Morgana saw the man with the eyes that had captured her attention the previous afternoon. She looked over at him, contemplating whether or not she should speak to him, welcome him to Camelot. She decided against it, knowing Arthur was nearby and would surely disapprove of her speaking to any man besides himself, especially someone of lesser nobility. Morgana strode confidently forward, catching Arthur's eye. He winked at her, causing her to roll her eyes in reply.

"Watch this," said Arthur pompously, whispering to his friends. He wielded back one of his countless daggers and threw it with all his might at the shield Mylor currently held in his hands. "Come on, keep moving! This target practice after all!"

Morgana gasped loudly, covering her mouth with her hand in shock at Arthur's actions. Well, she really wasn't all that surprised. She lifted her skirts and hurried towards the prince, hoping to stop him from killing the young man. An onlooking Gwen was hoping for the same outcome from stories above. Morgana snatched Arthur's other wrist just as he threw his fourth consecutive dagger at the moving shield.

"What do you think you're doing?" she spat.

"Target practice," he laughed, throwing another blade.

"Well, stop it!" she objected. "You're going to kill him."

"Nonsense, my aim in impeccable," he grinned, hurling yet another dagger, "even with you distracting me."

His fellow warriors roared with laughter from behind them, shoving each other in jest. Morgana jerked her neck their direction, sending them a warning look. They immediately ceased their laughter, stiffening their posture at her nasty glare. Sir Pellinor released an involuntary gulp, his eyes locked on Mylor like the other two men. Arthur refused to heed Morgana's demand, opting to continue his throwing as poor Mylor shook like a leaf as he ran back and forth. Finally, the boy's clumsiness took hold as he dropped the shield, accidentally kicking it into a steady roll. It came to a halt by means of Merlin, who stopped its path by stomping it to the ground.

"Hey, come on, that's enough," said Merlin, looking over at Arthur. He froze momentarily, noticing the woman he had seen the day before, the raven-haired beauty from the tower. She was even more beautiful in person, breathtaking really. He shifted from one foot to another as he saw that her hand was locked tightly around the moronic warrior.

"What?" asked Arthur, yanking his wrist free from Morgana's grasp. She stared on, unmoving as she gazed on the handsome commoner.

"You've had your fun, my friend," said Merlin gently.

"Do I know you?" asked Arthur, striding forward.

"Uh, I'm Merlin," he replied, extending his hand for Arthur to shake.

_Merlin_, that was his name. Now the man whom Morgana picked out of a crowd had a name. A curious name, but she rather liked it nonetheless.

"So I don't know you," said Arthur rudely, ignoring Merlin's friendly gesture, "yet you called me friend."

"That was my mistake," he replied.

"Yes, I think so," said Arthur, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Yeah, I'd never have a friend who was such an ass," said Merlin, unwavering.

Morgana released an obnoxiously loud snort from behind Arthur. She covered her mouth in a less than ladylike manner as Arthur turned around to send her a vicious glare. Merlin smiled to himself as the woman chuckled at his comment. She had to bite her tongue to prevent another outburst. Merlin turned his back to leave just as Arthur returned his attention onto him

"Nor I to have one to be so stupid," said Arthur, not near as amused as Morgana. "Tell me, Merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees?"

"No," he replied.

"Would you like me to help you?" asked Arthur fiercely.

"I wouldn't if I were you," said Merlin, shaking his head.

"Why?" Arthur laughed. "What are you going to do to me?"

"You have no idea," he threatened.

"Be my guest," said Arthur, extending his arms and motioning for Merlin to attack. "Come on."

Merlin swung his fist towards the future king, but his efforts were futile. Arthur snatched his wrist and ended up locking it up against Merlin's back, holding him at his mercy.

"Arthur, let him alone," Morgana warned, taking several determined steps towards him. "The only thing he's hurt is your pride, which was much needed in my opinion."

"Keep out of this, Morgana," said Arthur, refusing to take his eyes of his opponent for even a second.

"You could be put in jail for that," said Arthur shallowly.

"And who do you think you are, the King?" Merlin retorted.

"No, thank God," said Morgana dryly, answering before her counterpart could reply to the question directed towards him. "He's his idiot son, Arthur."

On that note, Arthur took the opportunity to jam his heel into the back Merlin's knees before kicking him even harder so he fell onto his face. He groaned in pain and collapsed onto the hard earth. Morgana sneered deviously at the prince, kneeling down to make sure Merlin was alright. She gently placed a benevolent hand on his shoulder and another on his elbow. She tilted her head to the side and sent him a concerned look.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly.

Merlin nodded silently, more embarrassed than anything. Oh how he would have enjoyed defeating the arrogant arse in front her. He would have been a hero, but instead he looked like a weakling. Arthur motioned to his guards to come over, displeased with Morgana's actions. She helped him back to his feet, brushing off his now dusty jacket.

"Thanks," he said quietly, unable to look the beauty in her eyes. "Er...?"

"Oh, pardon my manners," she said, understanding he wished to thank her by name. "I'm the King's ward, Lady Morgana."

"I'm Merlin," he smiled feebly, "just Merlin. I'm staying with the Court Physician, Gaius."

"Well, 'Just Merlin,'" Morgana teased lightheartedly. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm sorry Prince Arthur isn't as hospitable to our newest patron as one of his title should be."

"And I'm sorry Lady Morgana has led you to believe assaulting your prince is acceptable," Arthur retorted sarcastically. "However, I _am_ hospitable enough to offer you a room in the castle. Guards, please escort Lady Morgana's new friend to his new chambers: the dungeon."

The pair of guards approached swiftly, grabbing hold of either of Merlin's arms with no concern to whether they were hurting him. They turned him forcefully back towards the castle.

"Wait!" Morgana interjected, causing the guards to remain still momentarily. They looked back at the two nobles with curious glares. "Arthur Pendragon, you order his release this instant."

"Absolutely not, he dishonored the crown," said Arthur defiantly. "You saw him."

"What _I saw_ was an egomaniacal degenerate abusing his power to order around a helpless servant as if he were an animal," she spat, poking her index finger against his chest. "Then _I saw_ someone try to help, oblivious to the fact that the idiot he was nobly standing up against was an idiot with a birthright."

Her objection did not go as she had planned. Arthur appeared more enraged at Morgana's disrespect towards him and unwillingness to take his side, and the young prince decided to take his fury out on Merlin.

"Take him away," Arthur barked, pivoting fiercely away from Morgana. Merlin was escorted away from the pair, leaving a sour taste in both Arthur and Morgana's mouths. He picked up his favored blade from the wooden shield that the now speechless Mylor held before him. Arthur took a couple steps away from the stunned servant before taking a pregnant pause. He heaved a heavy sight, turning his head to the side so Mylor knew the prince was speaking to him but denied him eye contact.

"I'm er– sorry by the way," said Arthur begrudgingly as Morgana stared on at him, "for using you as... um, a human target."

Mylor could only nod in reply. Arthur nodded awkwardly and whisked by Morgana in a hurried rage. The Lady couldn't help but smile, maybe Arthur wasn't a _complete_ arse, though he was certainly close. She'd make sure his father knew of his transgressions and with any luck, Merlin would be freed by morning.

–

"I trust my son's judgment, Morgana," said Uther, not bothering to look up from his countless papers. "If Arthur says his punishment is just then I trust him."

"Blind agreement," she sighed, leaning on the heel of her palms upon Uther's long wooden table. "Such a fine quality for a King to attain."

"Do not test me, child," he frowned, annoyed. "I am in no mood."

Morgana released a heavy sigh, plopping down in the chair closest to Uther's right. She propped her chin up on her knuckles in a faux pout. Morgana heaved another sigh to specifically grasp Uther's attention. The tyrant king rolled his eyes and set his paperwork upon the tabletop. Fine, if she wanted his full and undivided attention then his ward could have it. He tilted his head forward as if to nudge her to go on.

"He is a friend of Gaius," said Morgana.

"And Arthur is _my_ son," he insisted, "and the heir to the thrown of Camelot. How can you possibly expect me to be so liberal with my sentencing when this boy has threatened that?"

"We both know it would take a small army to take down Arthur, as much as I loathe to admit it and I really do," she added for good measure. "He was teasing an innocent servant and Merlin stepped in to stop him. It was a noble gesture, and if Arthur would have heeded my warning to begin with then none of this would have happened."

"You know his name?" Uther snorted.

"Yes, he was trying to introduce himself to _your _son, but Arthur thought an introduction to the dungeon was far more becoming than a simple handshake," she snapped.

"Tell me why I should abet your request for this boy's release when you have been so insolent these last few days," said Uther, one corner of his mouth curling into a mocking grin. "You're refusing to attend the ball, yet here you are asking for my pardon."

"I'll go to your preposterous feast if you free the boy," said Morgana fiercely, rolling her eyes. "I'll wear my new dress and pretend to be overjoyed to be partaking in the celebration of the massacre of thousands of innocent lives."

"I'll inform Gaius to free the boy at sunrise then," said Uther, smiling victoriously. "And to think, if you would have decided against using your ever so attractive sarcasm to force in one more derisive sentiment then I wouldn't have ordered him to spend tomorrow morning in the stocks before his final release."

–

_**A/N: **__So basically I'm rewriting each episode in one or 2 parts in a more in depth, Merlin/Morgana sort of __way. The initial pairings are canon, and I don't plan on changing any of them besides playing up Merlin/Morgana. I'll be adding in more than just the episodic scenes as well. I'm just trying it out to see if anyone likes this. I'm going to wait for 10 reviews to update for that reason. If it's rubbish then I'll stop. By the way, who is excited for Series 3 tomorrow?_


	2. Chapter 2: The Dragon's Call Part 2

_**Chapter Two**_

_The Dragon's Call  
(Part Two)_

–

_Jealousy and love are sisters. _

–

"_Merlin..." the voice called again. "Merlin..."_

He had been abruptly awoken from his slumber by the haunting voice again. This time, Merlin knew it was not a dream. He heard it clear as day, coming eerily from below the dungeons of which he was currently trapped within. He knelt on his hands and knees, placing one of his adorably oversized ears against the cool stone. The eerie voice did not repeat its call.

"Merlin!" a second source called, much more violent than the first. It was Gaius, looking rather perturbed. Merlin forgot about the voice and grinned hopefully at the old man. Maybe he wouldn't die a slow, painful death beneath the castle after all.

"Hi Gaius," he smirked.

"You never cease to amaze me," Gaius threatened. "The one thing someone like you should be doing is keeping your head down, and what do you do? You behave like an idiot."

"Sorry," Merlin muttered shyly.

"You're lucky you've managed to be released," said Gaius.

"Oh, thank you!" Merlin cheered. "I won't forget this–"

"It isn't me you should be thanking," said Gaius. "It was the Lady Morgana you are indebted to."

"The Lady Morgana?" said Merlin with an upward inflection. "What? Why would she help me?"

"That is a question one would have to ask her," said Gaius. "But she's a kindhearted young woman, and I wager she wouldn't stand by and let you be imprisoned for something so idiotic."

"Oh," said Merlin, nodding.

"There is still a price to pay, however," said Gaius.

"A price?"

–

The twentieth tomato struck Merlin's cheek with a swift sting across his skin. He flinched, closing his eyes tightly as a handful of lettuce hit him square in the nose. A morning in the stocks was not exactly how Merlin wanted to start his third official day in Camelot, though he had to admit it was better than wasting away in a cold cell. Thankfully, he had a topic to occupy his mind to distract him from the never ending stream of rotten vegetables being thrown at his head. He stood, slouched rather, and thought of why the Lady Morgana would have stuck her own hypothetical neck out for him.

She barely knew him, yet she was the one who saved him from the dungeons. It would have been easy for her to just forget about the incident in the courtyard between himself and the barbaric prince of whom Merlin loathed with his entirety at the moment, but she didn't. He made a mental note to personally thank the king's ward, giving him an excuse to see her again. Merlin blinked a couple times to clear his head as another young woman approached him. Her clothing was plain, leading him to believe she was a servant, but she was still rather pretty. The woman of darker complexion came to a halt beside him, smiling kindly down at him as Merlin spit out a mouthful of tomato.

"I'm Guinevere, but most people call me 'Gwen,'" said the young woman, smiling shyly. "I'm the Lady Morgana's maid."

He smiled internally at the odd coincidence.

"I'm Merlin," he grinned, extending his hand as far as he possibly could through the wooden restraint. "Most people call me 'Idiot'."

"No, I saw what you did," she objected feebly. "You were so brave."

"It was stupid."

"Well, I'm glad you walked away," said Gwen lightheartedly. "You weren't going to beat Arthur."

"I could have beaten him," said Merlin.

"You think?" Gwen smirked in a condescending sort of way. "I've seen Arthur beaten on very few occasions over the years, most of which were by my Lady."

"Really?"

"She's much more competent with a sword than she's given credit for," said Gwen. "You on the other hand..."

"Thanks," Merlin scoffed.

"No, I'm sure you're much stronger than you look," she stammered awkwardly. "It's just that Arthur is much more of those rough-tough, save the world type of men and..."

"What?"

"Well, you don't look like that," said Gwen gently.

Merlin beckoned her nearer so he could whisper to the pretty young maid.

"I'm in disguise," he jested.

"Oh," Guinevere laughed, a bit too hard. "Well, Arthur is a bully, and everyone thought you were a real hero especially my Lady, that is why she struck an accord to have you released."

"What sort of accord?" asked Merlin anxiously.

"She was set on boycotting the feast this evening. She objected to the reason for the celebration, you understand," said Guinevere, Merlin nodded. "Uther agreed to set you free if she abandoned her prior grievances and attend the festivities."

"She did that for me?" he asked hoarsely, earning a curious glare from Guinevere before he cleared his throat to cover his sudden tone shift. "I mean, why would she do such a thing?"

"Anything to stick a thorn in Arthur's side, I suppose," Gwen shrugged, "though that is quite a lot for her to give up just to bother Arthur, so I really don't know. Maybe it was just from the goodness of her heart–"

"I'm sorry, Guinevere, but I think my fan club has returned," he said swiftly, warning the young maid of the fresh bucket of veggies that appeared before a group of children with exuberant looks on their faces. She smiled in an amused sort of way and darted out of the way, sending him a longing glance before hurrying back to the castle.

–

Morgana lifted a golden scarf up off the wooden display, examining it by running the delicate fabric through her fingers. If she was going to be forced to attend the feast then she might as well look nice, so she was on a mission to find some fabric to spice up her new maroon dress. She always loved shopping in late afternoon, mingling amongst the townspeople though her beautiful gowns prevented her from fitting in completely. Uther never approved of her sneaking off into town without an escort but after the hundredth time she'd done it he sort of turned the other cheek... most of the time. Morgana smiled at the elderly woman selling the cloth and nodded to her, signaling that she would purchase the fabric. The woman sent a her a toothless grin in return and accepted Morgana's shillings as payment. She folded the cloth carefully and turned about to return her new purchase to the castle.

However, Morgana was hit with an abrupt jolt, knocking her silk scarf onto the muddy earth. She had walked right into someone, a man. He instinctively grasped onto her elbows to hold her steady. Morgana gripped his forearms for balance, looking upwards into the fierce blue eyes that seemed to call to her and recognized the face hovering over her.

"Merlin?" she said with an upward inflection as if he had just walked in on her in the nude or something.

"My Lady?" he said in a voice so far from suave, so far from debonair that if he was onlooker that he would have thrown a tomato at himself. His voice actually cracked like prepubescent boy. He was mortified, his face the color of the bright red fruit that had struck him just hours earlier in the day. "Excuse me! I'm terribly sorry, not looking where I was going and–"

"No worries, Merlin, I wasn't looking either," she smiled, releasing the young warlock and composing herself. Merlin's skin stung as if an invisible outline of the king's ward's palm was seared in his forearm. He hoped it would never fade. "I'm happy to see you, actually. I was beginning to wonder whether or not the King would keep his word."

"Yes, he did," said Merlin fervently. "I'm happy to see you as well. I was hoping to be able to thank you for your sacrifice to have me freed. Your maid, Guinevere, told me what you did."

"Think nothing of it," she smirked. "What kind of Lady of the Court would I be if I sat idly by as an innocent man was imprisoned because of a pompous ass... er– pardon my manners."

Merlin laughed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and looking at his shoes. There he saw the beautiful silk fabric on the muddy earth. A pang of guilt overtook him as he knelt down and snatched the cloth back off the ground. He tried to dust it off but only made things worse by rubbing the mud deeper into the silk.

"I'm so sorry," he frowned, meaningfully. "I didn't mean– well, I mean that–"

"Merlin, it's alright," she laughed lightly, holding half of the fabric in her hand while Merlin held the other half. "It was my fault anyway. I was just looking for something I could use to dress up my new gown. I can find something else."

"Please, let me wash it for you," he insisted, trying to pry the scarf from her hand.

"Honestly, it's fine," she smiled, refusing to release the cloth. "I'll just replace it. It's impossible to get out a stain on such delicate fabric anyhow."

"I insist," he said, smiling in an adorable way.

Not far down the dirt path lined with venders, Arthur and his men approached. They were laughing loudly about some servant they had tricked into eating dung not long before as they searched the market for a snack. When Arthur saw Morgana and the young man he had imprisoned the day prior standing entirely too close and smiling at one another he found himself instantly losing his appetite. Sir Pellinor elbowed Arthur's side and knelt his head forward towards the couple that Arthur had spotted long before. He nodded in reply, smiling as if it amused him and led his friends towards the two innocent bystanders.

"How's your knee walking coming along?" asked Arthur, approaching from behind Merlin.

Merlin slipped the fabric from Morgana's grasp and quickly slid it into his jacket pocket. Morgana did not look pleased that Arthur had so rudely intruded, though he did look exceptionally handsome that afternoon, but she'd never admit it aloud. Merlin recognized the rogue voice at once as the young prince. He frowned, closing his eyes tight to persuade himself that violence was not the answer. He was always dreadful at persuasion, he'd come to find out.

"I seem to prefer _foot_ walking," he snapped, pivoting about quickly. "I've pretty much mastered the craft, but perhaps you could give a me a demonstration."

"Ah, thank god," said Arthur in faux shock. "I was beginning to think you were deaf as well as dumb."

"Arthur, I think I hear your father calling," said Morgana. "Go on, you're late for your daily bum kissing. He'll be waiting."

"Ah, Morgana, shouldn't you be up brushing your hair or something monotonous?" Arthur seethed. "This is between me and this dolt, here."

"He has a name," she sneered.

"I know," said Arthur indignantly, "'Dolt.'"

Morgana released a loud, exasperated huff and crossed her arms as she rolled her eyes.

"Listen, I told you that you were an ass," said Merlin, slyly. "I just didn't know you were a royal one."

Arthur looked back at his men with a _Can-You-Believe-This-Bloke_ sort of look. Morgana smiled proudly from behind Merlin, her eyes frozen on the flaxen-haired prince.

"Oh, what are you going to do?" said Merlin, egging him on. "Got daddy's men to protect you?"

"Ha! I can take you apart with one blow," said Arthur confidently.

"I could take you apart with much less than that," said Merlin, smiling arrogantly.

"You sure?" said Arthur in a condescending tone.

That was it, Merlin had had enough. Her hurriedly yanked off his jacket, and Morgana extended her hands (much to Arthur's displeasure) to hold it for him. Arthur laughed hardily at the young man, as did his knights behind him. The handsome prince tossed a heavy spiked club flail at Merlin, who clumsily dropped it and had to retrieve. Arthur swung his own flail over his head, teasing the warlock.

"Come on then," said Arthur mockingly. "I've been trained to kill since birth."

"Wow, but how long have you been training to be a prat?" asked Merlin.

"Since conception," said Morgana viciously, unamused.

"Don't egg him on, Morgana," said Arthur with no humor in his tone. "He can't address me like that."

"Sorry," said Merlin sarcastically. "How long have you been training to be a prat, _my Lord_?"

Before Morgana could laugh at his witty remark, Arthur swung his flail at Merlin's head with incredible force. If Merlin wouldn't have ducked then he would have surely been killed.

"Arthur!" Morgana screamed in extreme protest, no joking this time.

"Stay back, Morgana," said Arthur as he passed her, chasing after Merlin.

She didn't pay him any mind, not like she ever did. Morgana darted after Merlin, Arthur and his men cheering him on with complete disapproval plastered across her face. Merlin tried to swing the weapon he was unaccustomed to over his head but ended up getting it caught in a hanging basket. He was forced to abandon his weapon and hurry backwards into a small nook of fruit venders. Arthur swung his flail, missing several times and striking bowls of fruit instead.

Morgana, in moderate desperation, slid Sir Leon's sword from its holster when he was distracted with the brawl and charged after the two dueling buffoons. Merlin fell onto his backside and secretly used magic to cause the chain of Arthur's weapon to become tangled with a couple dangling meat hooks. Arthur fought to release the flail and succeeded with little effort. Merlin backed up cautiously, keeping his eyes directly on Arthur. Suddenly, several bags of wheat caused him to topple onto his back again, rendering him helpless. Merlin looked about frantically, was this dollop head really going to kill him?

"Rule #1 of battle, Merlin," he jeered, "never take your eye off your opponent."

Merlin was just about to enchant a nearby rope to straighten and trip the prince, but before he could react, Arthur was lying face first beside him atop the bags of wheat. Morgana had kicked Arthur swiftly in his behind, causing his flail to fall from his usually capable hands. He fell forward next to Merlin and slowly rolled over onto his back, rubbing his forehead, not knowing what hit him. Morgana looked down at him, the tip of Sir Leon's sword just inches from his nose, smiling victoriously.

"Rule #2 of battle, Arthur," she teased, "never lose sight of your surroundings, for an enemy may just take advantage of you from behind. I would have figured you'd know that by now, after all the times I've beaten you."

Arthur couldn't help but smile up at the young beauty hovering over him. She puffed a long strand of hair out of her face in the way that drove him mad. He chuckled lightly, looking around at the bystanders.

"I yield most respectfully to the Lady Morgana," he grinned cheekily as Morgana lowered her weapon wearily.

The crowd behind them cheered and laughed at what had abruptly become a lighthearted spat. Morgana leaned over and extended her hand. Arthur smiled flirtatiously for a moment before he realized she had offered her help to Merlin rather than to him, leaving him lying on his backside. Merlin accepted her hand and rose to his feet. Arthur quickly took to his feet as well to save what was left of his dignity. The guards approached the young warlock, grabbing him by either arm, but Arthur held up his hand in protest. He knew Morgana would never forgive him if he sent the boy to the dungeons once again.

"No," he said, out of breath. "He may be an idiot, but he's a brave one."

"Er– thanks," said Merlin.

"There's something about you, Merlin, I just can't put my finger on it," said the prince, pointing his index finger at the boy.

–

"The sheer audacity!" Uther Pendragon bellowed. "You two have made fools of yourselves in public before, but partaking in a brawl and destroying private property? What were you thinking?"

Arthur and Morgana sat side-by-side in matching wooden chairs in Arthur's chambers before of the infuriated king. Their backs were slouched, looking down at the floor. They hadn't been in such a demeaning position since they were fourteen. They'd snuck out of the castle after dark to go swimming in the royal pond and had been almost killed when one of the king's archers thought them to be trespassers. Uther may have appeared more angry now seeing as their moronic display was in public this time with many witnesses.

"It was that _Merlin _fellow again, Father," Arthur insisted. "You remember, the boy _Morgana _insisted on freeing onto our unsuspecting subjects? He was behind it all."

"Oh, hardly!" she objected, jerking her head to look deviously onto Arthur. "You know as well as I that you started the whole thing!"

"He did to instigate it all," said Arthur.

"–did not–"

"–did to–"

"–did not–"

"–did to–"

"–did not–"

"–did to infinity–"

"You can't do that!" Morgana objected.

"–can to–"

"–can not–"

"–can to–"

"–can not–"

"I don't care who started it!" Uther shouted, causing both of them to swallow their tongues and slouch back in their seats. "What I do care about is the fact that the two of you represent the kingdom, and you go out and act like a pair of right idiots. What kind of example are you setting?"

"Well, I think I set a pretty decent example," said Morgana, crossing her arms righteously. "I showed little girls everywhere that they have all the power in the world to take down a man, especially a bully of one."

"Like I told you a dozen times now, you blindsided me," said Arthur indignantly. "It was completely unfair, and I wasn't even trying anyhow–"

"Bullocks, you–"

"Enough!" Uther bellowed, striding towards the door and opening it. "I've-have-heard-enough! I don't want to hear that either of you so much as step a toe out of line from now on. You best behave yourselves at the feast. I won't have you embarrassing me in front of anyone again."

"Not to worry, Father," said Arthur in a very brown nosing sort of voice, rising to his feet to bow respectfully to his father. "I'll make sure Morgana behaves from now on."

Uther was indifferent to his son's sentiment, choosing to barge out the door and slam it behind him in reply. Arthur didn't have the chance to turn around. Morgana had charged him and leapt onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck as she tried to tackle him to the ground, and with any luck, pummel him. He unsteadily swung around, trying with all his might to pry her from his neck. Finally, he opted to falling backwards onto his bed which meant landing atop Morgana. He made sure he didn't let all his weight fall onto her. She released him against her will before he jolted up and climbed on top of her, straddling her and firmly pinning her wrists atop the bed. She tried to free herself, but Arthur was too strong and in a favorable position. He smiled victoriously down at the young beauty as she gritted her teeth in return.

"Rule #3 of battle," said Arthur condescendingly, "never allow yourself to be overpowered by your opponent."

Morgana smiled seductively, leading Arthur to lean in closer. She parted her lips, tilting her head back slightly. Arthur crawled closer even, allowing Morgana to feel his warm breath against her pale skin before he kissed her longingly. He then drug his lower lip along her jawline, placing gentle kisses against her cheek. This was not the first time Arthur and Morgana had been in such a situation with one another. They were accustomed to whatever twisted relationship they had, and they took advantage of its rare benefits on occasion, well maybe more than just on an occasion. Arthur's lips began creating a path down Morgana's collar bone towards her chest. Her breaths were becoming raspy, her chest rising and falling with great haste now.

"Rule 4," she whispered hoarsely.

"What?" he breathed, pausing amidst his kisses.

Morgana abruptly lifted her knee upwards in a sudden movement that ended with Arthur moaning loudly and rolling over onto his back, gripping his manhood in pain. Morgana took no time mimicking Arthur's prior motions and pinned the prince upon his own bed.

"Rule #4 of battle," she said matter-of-factly, "never trust the enemy."

"What ever happened to Rule 8?" asked Arthur, in a high pitched tone. "Never strike below the belt."

"Well, thank goodness we aren't really in battle," said Morgana playfully.

_Or maybe they were, but whatever battle they were in, they were writing their own rules._

–

The delicate golden cloth sat alone on Merlin's wooden box of a nightstand, pristine. He'd used magic to wash the stain from the silk and it had worked like the charm it was. Not only had he returned it to its previous perfect state, but he had transformed it into a sash that resembled several thick olive branches combined as one circle to fit the slender waist of the virtual princess. He couldn't wait to return it to the king's ward. He'd gone to sleep in a rather good mood, picturing her thanking him.

"_Merlin...Merlin..." called the voice again. "Merlin..."_

Merlin's eyes shot open. He was growing rather sick of this voice, or whatever it was. He was going to find out who was calling to him once and for all. He took to his feet, throwing on his jacket and boots. Passing by a sleeping Gaius. Merlin slipped into the darkness of the castle only lit by torches that were few and far between. The voice continued to call his name, relentless it was. It was coming from below the castle. Merlin tricked a pair of guards into chasing the dice from their game down an opposing corridor to gain entrance into the lower levels.

"_Merlin..."_

It was echoing off the walls, coming from a small secluded door deep below the castle. Gripping his torch tightly, he followed the sound deeper and deeper into the dungeons, descending one final staircase. Around another corner of ruins and Merlin had reached the end, he could go no further. He stood before what he could only describe as a canyon. It was an enormous stone chamber, the size of which Merlin couldn't believe. It must have been the most bewildering place he had ever seen before. Stepping forward and lifting his torch he could make out several large caves leading into darkness. No one was here, however. He frowned to himself, realizing he'd had a wasted journey. No one was in sight. That rotten prat Prince Arthur must have played a trick on him. He turned his back to leave, but froze when a fit of deep laughter rang in his ears. Merlin pivoted about and waved his torch anxiously about.

"Where are you?" he demanded.

What happened next, Merlin would have never thought could happen in a hundred million suns. A humungous dragon shot up from below, its wingspan the size of a castle tower, yet it somehow managed to fly with utter grace. It landed atop a central dais, lowering its head at the young warlock.

"I am here," it smiled.

Merlin nearly fell onto his backside in shock and terror. The bloody creature was talking, talking to him! He must be dreaming.

"How small you are for such a great destiny," it continued.

"W-Why?" Merlin breathed, trying to remain calm and collected, speaking to the dragon as if it wasn't well, a fire-breathing monster that could kill him in one swift motion. "What do you mean? What destiny?"

"Your gift, Merlin, was given to you for a reason," said the Dragon.

"So there is a reason?" asked Merlin uneasily.

"Arthur is the Once and Future King who will unite the land of Albion," said the Dragon.

Merlin furrowed his brow, "right."

"But he faces many threats, from friend and foe alike," the scaly beast went on.

"I don't see what this has to do with me," said the boy.

"Everything," the Dragon insisted confidently. "Without you Arthur will never succeed, without you there will be no Albion."

"No," said Merlin, shaking his head in protest. "You've got this wrong."

"There is no right or wrong," said the Dragon. "There is only _what is_ and _what isn't_."

"I'm serious, if anyone wants to go and kill him they can go ahead," said the young warlock, flailing his arms. "In fact, I'll give them a hand."

The Dragon released a laugh that sounded sinister with a hint of amusement, Merlin couldn't really decide.

"None of us can choose our destiny, Merlin, and none of us can escape it," it said.

"No, no way, no," he persisted. "There must be another Arthur because this one's an idiot."

"Perhaps it's your destiny to change that," said the beast. "Perhaps it is your destiny to change many things."

"Like what?" Merlin scoffed in disbelief.

"Like saving a thousand lives by saving one single soul," it explained.

"What, save who?" asked the warlock

"She has many names," said the Dragon, "the Lady Morgana does."

"She's in danger?" asked Merlin anxiously. "Who do I need to save her from?"

"Herself," it replied matter-of-factly, "and it will not be an easy battle. In fact, most would call it unwinnable."

"That doesn't make sense," he said, shaking his head slowly.

"In time, young warlock, everything will," the Dragon smirked, ascending into blackness.

–

"Oi!" grunted Gaius.

When the balled up pair of trousers struck Merlin's face the next morning, in his disoriented state, he decided he must have had an intense dream the night prior. However, the fact that his boots were still on proved otherwise. Gaius hovered over him with a disapproving stare, judging his messy room. Merlin sat up, running his fingers through his dark locks and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"What do you think of the state of this room?" asked the old man, looking about at the discarded apparel items on the floor.

"It just sort of happens," he shrugged.

"Like magic?" Gaius joked in an unfunny sort of way.

"Er– yeah," Merlin shrugged.

"Right," said Gaius, annoyed. "Well, clean this mess up and then I need you to go and fetch me some wormwood. After that, go and drop this sleeping potion off to the Lady Morgana. The poor girl has terrible nightmares."

"Bad dreams?" asked the young warlock curiously.

"Yes, Merlin, that typically is the definition of a nightmare," said Gaius, increasingly annoyed to have to repeat himself, handing the boy the bottle of potion.

"What sort of nightmares does she have?"

"They vary," said Gaius halfheartedly.

"Like...?"

"_Like_ of a horrible tornado monster that wreaks havoc in unsuspecting bedrooms," said Gaius in jest.

"Ha ha, very funny," Merlin smirked sardonically at the physician of whom smiled down at him.

–

Merlin hid the newly decorated sash within his jacket, making sure no passersby caught sight of his mildly suspicious possession. He looked down at the dark red liquid bubbling within the small glass vial. It was much thicker looking in density and less appealing than what Lady Helen had been given. He couldn't shake this incessant funny feeling he had gotten after delivering the yellow potion to the great singer's chambers. He had discovered some odd sort of straw doll and an unexplained amulet atop her dresser. He tried to forget about the incident, but for some reason he could not. Merlin had a sixth sense for trouble. It had been his downfall in many instances.

The Lady Morgana's chamber was in its own tower across the castle. Merlin climbed the curving staircase to her bedroom to find the door cracked open. He slowly stepped through the doorway, setting eyes on her at once. He opened his mouth to notify her of his presence, but he found himself speechless, unable to formulate a sentence. It was pathetic, he thought to himself, how unbelievably nervous he was around her, how intimidated. He had no reason to be. She treated him like a human, like he wasn't a second-class citizen. She lifted her hair off her back and strolled behind her changing blinds. Merlin shifted uncomfortably, deciding to return later than risk an awkward situation. Too late, his large and unsteady foot accidentally hit the door and pushed it all the way open in response. Merlin cringed, closing his eyes tight as the door squeaked loudly. Without looking over, Morgana deducted it was Guinevere.

"You know, I've been thinking a lot about Arthur," said Morgana.

_That's unfortunate_, thought Merlin.

"Pass me that dress, would you, Gwen?" she asked, unknowingly before continuing her rant. "I mean, he's a a total jouster, and just because I'm the King's ward doesn't mean I have to accompany him to the feast, does it?"

Merlin lifted up the gown upon a nearby bench that Morgana wanted and hung it over the top of the standing blinds, lowering his head to hide his face. He felt like an idiot.

"Well, does it?" she repeated.

"Mm-mm," Merlin hummed in a high pitched tone, looking around like a chicken with its head cut off. Well, he guessed a chicken could look around without a head, but still.

"If he wanted me to go then he should have asked me, but he hasn't," she went on. "So do you know what that means?"

"Mm-mm," he said again desperately.

Merlin hastily hung his handmade sash for the king's ward over the top of her desk chair and set the potion before it.

"Er– where are you?" asked Morgana a bit suspiciously, peeking over.

"Here!" Merlin squeaked, holding up her adjacent cloak before her face.

"Oh, well it means I'm going alone," she replied.

Merlin dropped the cloak to the table, pleased to hear of the beauty's choice to not attend the feast with the pompous prince of whom he disliked immensely. He turned quickly and darted out the door before Morgana could ask another question, an inquiry that required more than just a "yes" or "no" answer. He saw Gwen coming towards Morgana's chambers and hid in a nook as she passed before returning to Gaius.

Morgana finally gave her bedroom a good look after fastening her dress. Gwen was no where in sight, the room bare besides herself. She strode out from behind her standing blinds and looked about, even leaning over to peek under the table.

"Gwen?" she said with an upward inflection.

Then a shiny gold item caught her eye. It was the olive branch sash. She delicately took it into her hands and let it dangle down her arm. She realized what happened after noticing the potion atop the table as well. She smiled to herself at how uncomfortable Merlin must have been just then. Admiring her new beautiful accessory, the king's ward realized that Arthur had been right. There was something about the young man that she couldn't put her finger on, but _she knew that someday she would_.

–

Morgana adjusted the back ribbon of the sash around her waist and waited for the guards to open the doors to the Great Hall for her. Arthur would eat his heart out for certain that evening. Her maroon gown hung snugly on her, emphasizing her small figure. When the doors opened and she slowly made her entrance a quiet sea of gasps rang in her ears at how lovely she appeared. She kept her eyes forward, making certain to only slightly glance at the prince and his usual group of moronic friends out of the corner of her deep green eyes. It was enough to cause his jaw to quite literally drop and mouth something that looked like "God, have mercy." She smiled softly to herself, arriving at her destination: the wine. Arthur appeared before her in less than thirty seconds. She'd won this round.

"Arthur," she said in a voice that almost sounded like he'd snuck up on her. He knew her act and smiled cheekily at her, pouring himself another glass of wine.

"New dress?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes," she replied, smiling. "What do you think?"

"It's positively hideous, dreadful, a total eye sore," he teased, handing her a goblet of wine he'd poured.

She playfully swatted his arm, rolling her eyes and laughing lightly. His pale blue eyes teased her more than his words. He looked more handsome than usual, his red cape hanging casually over his strong, broad shoulders and caused his skin to appear full of life and excitement. She felt her cheeks flush, knowing he'd one round two. Their relationship was just one big game, a game where they were both destined to lose.

Merlin looked on at the couple of sovereign bloods, holding his tray of grapes a bit lower as he watched Prince Arthur's finger gently, sensually tug the Lady Morgana closer to him by her sash, the sash he had made her no less. It made his stomach a bit unsettled, but he shook it off regretfully. He was foolish to long after the virtual princess, and he wished more than anything he could stop himself. However, for the first time, Merlin was powerless. He hadn't noticed he'd been staring at the pair for several minutes until Guinevere brought his ogling to his attention with a slight nudge.

"She looks great, doesn't she?" implying her dear friend's appearance.

"Er– yeah, she does," said Merlin dreamily.

"Some people are just born to be Queen," said the pretty young maid, peering down and adjusting several trays of food on an opposing table. She didn't appear to notice the almost distraught look on the warlock's face.

"No!" he objected, his voice foreign to him.

"I hope so, one day," said Gwen, repositioning the final plate, "not that I'd want to be her. Who'd want to marry Arthur?"

"Come on, Gwen, I thought you liked those rough-tough, save the world kind of men," said Merlin lightheartedly, watching Arthur tilt Morgana's face upwards to meet his by slowly pressing his thumb under her chin. She smiled in reply and Merlin cringed.

"No, I like much more ordinary men like you," said Gwen, unaware of the couple her new friend was looking at.

"Gwen, believe me, I'm not ordinary," he chuckled, dumb to what the maid was implying.

"No, I didn't mean _you_, obviously, not _you_," she said awkwardly. "I just like much more ordinary men _like_ you."

"Thanks," said Merlin, confused. Gwen smiled fleetingly and hurried off to suddenly become occupied offering refills of ale. Merlin furrowed his brow after her, setting his tray of fruit neatly upon the table. He didn't even notice someone coming up behind him.

"I'd settle if I were you," said a somewhat familiar voice. Merlin turned his head to the side and saw the young man he'd saved from Arthur's immature wrath a couple days prior. He apparently had a similar job tending to the guests with delicacies as did the young warlock judging from the tray of strawberries propped on his flattened palm and shoulder. Merlin raised an eyebrow. "I'm Mylor by the way. I've been meaning to thank you for getting Prince Idiot off my back. I'm in your debt...?"

"Merlin," he said kindly, extending his hand for Mylor to shake with his free palm. "It was nothing, really. Don't mention it. What did you say about settling, settling for what?"

"For Guinevere," he said as if Merlin should have already known.

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean, it's obvious she fancies you," he replied. "I've watched her stare at you like the last leg of lamb all evening, just as you've done the same to the Lady Morgana."

"Not following you," he said.

"Listen, I'll let you in on a secret, Merlin, because I like you. I've seen more men than I can count make fools of themselves just to try get the Lady Morgana to bat an eyelash at them over the years, men much better off and much better looking than you, _no offense_," Mylor explained. Merlin snorted at his 'no offense' comment. "It's pointless. The only bloke she'd ever given a second glance is Prince Git, and that's how it always will be. She's the future Queen of Camelot, Merlin, so I'd watch my step if I were you. Guinevere is a good woman, kind and generous. She'd make a favorable bride in my opinion. If I were you, I'd forget about the Lady Morgana and give Gwen a second look."

"I think you've got the wrong idea, my friend," said Merlin, unsure whether he liked this boy or not. "I have no interest in the Lady Morgana, and I already know of her relationship with _him_. In regard to Guinevere, she deserves to be with someone who doesn't see being with her as settling, every woman deserves that."

"Well, how do you see being with her then?"

"I– I don't know," said Merlin, shrugging. "All I do know is that I have no intention of doting on Lady Morgana. I deliver her potions, nothing else than–"

"Merlin, hello," said Morgana, interrupting the two men. She'd spotted her new friend across the room and left Arthur to return to his boisterous mates. "I wanted to thank you for the beautiful sash."

Mylor snorted a laugh, enjoying Merlin's uneasy expression. He nudged Merlin in the side with his elbow and muttered something about seeing him later before returning to his work with a large amount of satisfaction. Merlin blushed and rubbed the back of his neck, grinning despite himself.

"You're welcome," he mumbled. "I tried to make it look good as new."

"Well, it's better than good as new," she insisted. "It looks absolutely gorgeous."

"So do y–" he began before he could stop himself, luckily someone else did.

"Morgana," King Uther called to his ward, beckoning her to him. "Come here, my child."

Merlin released a heavy sigh of relief, thankful the king had prevented him from making an idiot of himself. Morgana rolled her eyes with her back turned to the king, smiling pleasantly to Merlin before dismissing herself to join Uther and Prince Arthur. The King had asked her to take her seat before the night's performance began. She reluctantly did so, sitting on Uther's left hand side whilst Arthur occupied his right. Uther rose to his feet only a few moments later to look onto his guests.

"We have enjoyed twenty years off peace and prosperity, it has brought myself and the kingdom many pleasures," said King Uther, addressing the crowd, "but few can compare the honor of introducing Lady Helen of Mora."

The group of onlookers clapped in great anticipation. Lady Helen stood upon a center dais in a yellow gown that was rather stunning. She took a deep breath before opening her mouth, releasing what Merlin decided to be the most beautiful singing voice he'd ever heard. He enjoyed the melodious tune, not realizing the affect it was taking on the crowd. Then he heard the metal tray of strawberries fall from Mylor's hand from behind him. The servant had collapsed to the ground as did everyone around him. They were all falling asleep as Lady Helen sung on. Arthur, Uther and Morgana all became hunched over in their chairs, cobwebs suddenly appearing out of then air atop them. Merlin covered his ears though he didn't need to. He had magic, he was immune to the spell.

Lady Helen strolled casually towards the head table of the three royals, grinning wickedly. Her eyes were set upon Arthur as she pulled a dagger from her sleeve. Merlin looked from the sorceress to the prince and back again. He thought of how much he disliked the prince and then the Dragon's prophecy. Frantically searching for a way to end the enchantment, Merlin spotted the heavy metal chandelier directly above the witch. Merlin narrowed his eyes and pictured it falling, withing a few seconds it did. It crushed the woman, forcing her to lie flat on her face atop the stone floor. Her singing instantly ceased and the once sleeping guests began to wake and realize what exactly had just happened.

The head table stood, staring down at the now elderly woman to be recognized as Thomas Collins' mother, the woman who had threatened the prince's life. Arthur motioned to move towards the woman to see if she was dead, but he had his answer before then. The witch lifted her head, snatched her fallen dagger before her and threw it with all her might at the prince with her final breath. Merlin's eyes glowed gold once more, slowing down time just long enough to pull Arthur out of the line of the blade. The two men fell to the side as the knife penetrated the back of the chair Arthur had just stood before. Morgana gasped, clutching her shaking hand to her wine stained lips. She followed behind Uther as he helped the pair to their feet.

Morgana looked over at the chair she stood beside, yanking the dagger from its resting place and staring at it curiously. She couldn't imagine if it had hit its target. She quickly pulled up her skirt when no one was looking and slid it in her guarder against her outer thigh. She didn't know why she took it, but she felt almost inclined to do so.

"You saved my boy's life," said the king to Merlin with great affection. "A debt must be repaid."

"Uh, well–"

"Don't be so modest," said Uther. "You must be rewarded."

"No, really you don't have to–" the warlock stammered nervously.

"You shall be awarded a position in the royal house," he said, gripping Merlin's shoulder.

Merlin lifted his gaze onto Morgana, meeting her eyes. Her lips were slightly parted, her expression unreadable. He was secretly wishing he would be able to work for her, be able to see her every day.

"You shall be Prince Arthur's manservant," the king finished, slapping his son's back before departing to speak with guards to rid the castle of the deceased sorceress. The crowd cheered at the news, including Morgana. She looked pleased at the disapproving expression on Arthur's part.

"Father!" Arthur objected, sharing an equally disgusted look from Merlin.

Morgana took a step towards Arthur, gripping his elbow.

"I have a feeling that this is the start of a great friendship," she joked, utterly unaware of the future truth of her sentiment.

"Oh, shut up," Arthur groaned, following after he father in a huff and leaving the pair alone.

"If he gives you any trouble just let me know," she grinned at him, winking at the new servant of the court before striding over to Guinevere. "I'll take care of him."

And with that simple gesture the young warlock had gotten something dozens of men would kill for,_ a batted eyelash._

–

_**A/N:**__ I'm so happy with the response to Chapter One! It's rare to get a lot of reviews in this fandom. Thanks to each and every one of you. I'll have shout outs to all my reviewers after next chapter. Who is excited for Valiant? I am! _

_**PS:**__ Please, no one, get offended by this ArMor business I've got going on. I'm using canon pairings, and you know what, people? I think Arthur and Morgana had this sort of relationship. Some may disagree, but I always thought they had a sort of friends with benefits type deal going on, but they were awkward admitting their true feelings for one another. They had plenty lust but lacked intimacy, basically. Anyways, this is still a Merlin/Morgana and Arthur/Gwen fic, so please stay with me there will be more ArMor and Gwen/Merlin before the true pairings._

_**Coming Soon:**__ Arthur and Merlin at least have one thing in common: Jealousy._

–

_Love Always,_

_The Witch, the Lady Milena_


	3. Chapter 3: Dagger of the Sisters Three

_**Chapter Three**_

_The Dagger of the Sister Three_

–

_Love is friendship set aflame. _

–

Morgana slowly and carefully ran the tip of the dagger she'd secretly confiscated from the back of Arthur's chair across every line upon her palm. It was hypnotically handsome, the metal blade was immaculate, no scars or indentions could be seen. It was designed to perfection, small vines were carved in the thin handle with a dark yellow, almost gold-colored, trapezoid shaped stone at the rear of the bolster. Two quillions propelled out from shoulders of the knife, the arms ended halfway down the blade like two razor sharp fangs to deliver the fatal stab. Even in the darkness of night there was no denying this dagger was innate. Morgana delicately drug her fingertips across the double-edged blade, and gasped slightly as engravings appeared in the wake of the path her skin had made atop the metal. Yanking the sole candle Gwen had left upon her nightstand closer, Morgana desperately tried to make out the writings she had unintentionally created. The lettering began to glow gold in a haunting manner to match the rear bolster. Squinting she whispered the words aloud:

_I, a loyal guard of the sisters three,  
__swear my life though faithfully,  
__my blood I give of the religion old,  
__my allegiance neither bought nor sold._

_Now, granted, I am for this blade,  
__to honor my ladies, the priestesses:  
__Morgause, Morgana, and Elaine,  
__For then, for now, and forever  
__they shall remain._

The dagger abruptly fell from Morgana's hand as she released a loud gasp, accidentally cutting her hand just below her thumb. As soon as her blood touched the tip, the entire blade began to glow the very color of the bolster's rear. It gracefully began to hover off her mattress, elegantly positioning itself as if it were about to deliver the final blow to her comforter. She couldn't move, think, breathe, all those necessary things a human should have the power to do in any and every circumstance. What had she done? She knew she shouldn't have taken the evidence of the witch's feeble attempt to kill Arthur. Why on earth did she feel so drawn to the stupid dagger? It was like an invisible force had commanded her to take, to examine it, to treasure it. She now regretted submitting to the urges she felt within. Apparently, her moronic inclination was about to get her killed.

Morgana's heart was beating so fast that she swore she could hear its repetitive thumping through her chest like a hummingbird's wings. Her eyes saucers, shivering so fiercely it almost seemed as if she was seizing. Suddenly, the gem that decorated the butt of the dagger began to separate from the rest of the dagger, hovering in the air just a few inches above the remainder. It began to glow as if a flame was inside its center. Then, with no prior warning, the dark yellow stone disappeared into thin air. The place where the stone had once been secured was instantly replaced with a simple metal but that seemed to have melted into a perfectly smooth silver surface to match the rest of the knife. The dagger fell with a thud onto her mattress, leaving Morgana stunned and confused on what just happened to her and what she was supposed to do now.

Before she could plan her next move, she felt a slight weight being placed upon her chest. Looking down, Morgana's eyes grew ever wider at the sight of the very same yellow stone that had been a piece of the mysterious dagger now hanging on her neck. Without a second thought, Morgana gripped the stone and yanked it with all her might. The thin gold chain that held it around her neck appeared as if it would break with the slightest tug, but looks can be deceiving. All Morgana gained from pulling on the gem was giving herself a neck ache. She became frantic, yanking and tearing at the chain to cause it to snap. She resorted to pulling the chain over her head but every time she tried to rid herself of the necklace the chain would magically shrink to a point where it almost choked her, preventing it from fitting over her skull. However, as soon as Morgana released it, the chain instantly uncoiled and hung loosely down her chest again. Snatching up the discarded dagger in a fit of desperation, she tried to saw the chain in half to no avail.

Referring to Morgana as panic stricken would be an understatement of great proportion. She was insane with fright and confusion, paying no mind to her wounded palm. All she could think of was getting this enchanted necklace off her neck, and why exactly her name was listed on the magical dagger, or who Morgause and Elaine were for that matter. _Sisters?_ P_riestesses?_ What in the would was that supposed to mean? It must be a different Morgana. It wasn't impossible, far from it in fact. Morgana wasn't an uncommon name. Over the years she had met at least two others with her same name, three maybe! Yes, this was a simple coincidence and nothing more. She had no sisters, nor was she a priestess by any means. Morgana still had the very problematic circumstance of the enigmatic jewel around her neck. What if it had powers? What if it could hurt her? She was shivering with terror.

"Lady Morgana?"

A knock at the door caused her to freeze in her attempts to sever her unwanted necklace. She swallowed hard, hoping the intruder would leave. No such luck, however. The knocking continued. Morgana hastily took to her barefeet, slipping the stone portion of her necklace into her bosom so the thin silver chain was barely visible to the naked eye. She then grabbed the dagger and slid it in between her mattresses, pulling down her comforter neatly over the side. Morgana strode towards her entrance and rather unnaturally pulled open the door. She was out of breath, bleeding, and undeniably frazzled-looking. Merlin's eyes grew wide at the sight of the door swinging open so abruptly and simply at the sight of the usually composed and confident Lady of the Court. He sent her an uncomfortable grin and held up the reason for his visit, a small bottle of sleeping draught.

"Merlin?" she said, out of breath.

"Milady, I'm so sorry to have disturbed you–"

"You didn't disturb me," she lied hastily, and Merlin knew it. "I was– I mean, I was just waking up from a nightmare, so you're timing is impeccable."

"My apologies for not arriving earlier," he said gently, handing her the potion Gaius had asked him to deliver. "I wish I had arrived before you fell asleep, so you could have eluded your discomfort. Arthur just has me so busy–"

"Is he giving you any grief?" she asked in an almost defensive manner for the young man. Morgana suddenly noticed how tired and how almost uneasy Merlin seemed. Her face instantly softened from the rigid and tense expression she had been sporting in the beginning.

"I appreciate your concern, milady, but Prince Arthur deals me nothing I cannot handle," he smiled thankfully.

"Yet you seem troubled," she replied gently, tilting her head slightly to the side.

"I'm fine," he said quietly. "It's only that Arthur just informed me that my duties now include using me to help him fine tune his swordsman skills before his morning training sessions with his knights. Which means–"

"Which means you've become his personal practice dummy?" she concluded, smiling compassionately up at the tall yet feeble figure.

"Precisely," he nodded solemnly. "You understand me being a bit ill at ease once it is taken into account that the last time I wielded a sword was when I was seven... and it was wooden."

Morgana laughed lightly despite her current turmoil.

"Has he asked you to put on his armor yet?" she inquired, beckoning him inside her chambers.

"Not yet, but he's had me polish it a dozen times in last twenty four hours," he shrugged humorously, following her inside.

"You'll need to learn how to manage dressing Prince Prat in his suit of armor if you want to avoid further ridicule," she explained with a tinge of distaste on her tongue. "Arthur thinks it beneath him to dress himself in his own chainmail."

"Oh," he muttered.

"I'm certain Gwen would be more than happy to assist you," she suggested, striding behind her curtain and continuing their conversation whilst hidden. "Just ask her in the morning if she has a moment."

"I will be sure to do that," he replied.

"But a talented swordsman, however, can be hard to come by," she went on. "Especially when you'll be going up against someone as talented as Arthur, as much as I hate to admit it. Though I think I can manage a last minute training session for you with one of the few people I know of who have ever been known to have beaten him in hand-to-hand combat."

"Really?" he said hopefully. "You'd do that? Do you think they'd be able to help me this late?"

Morgana pushed back her curtains and stepped into the dim candlelight. She was wearing what could only be described as high fashion armor. Merlin smiled fleetingly at the sight of Morgana. She wore a thick metal belt that was thin around the waist and collected in a large silver plate in the front with the Pendragon emblem. Even in something so typically unattractive made her look as if she was in a gown fit for a queen. Tying her wavy hair into a side ponytail, she smiled proudly up at Merlin.

"Of course, and I will," she smirked. "Now, come on."

Morgana hurried forward, grabbing Merlin by the wrist and pulling him gently out of her chambers. She had a childlike grin on her face as she led Merlin through several corridors and secret doors and staircases the new inhabitant of the castle didn't even know existed. They dodged several guards who were patrolling the castle, exchanging humored half giggles every time they outwitted a burly knight who didn't spot them lurking in a dark nook or behind a stream of curtains. Merlin was exhausted beyond recognition and Morgana's worries were too overwhelming to comprehend but at that moment nothing else mattered. At that moment they were together and everything else seemed to fade into nothingness.

"This way," Morgana whispered fiercely, a hypnotizing gleam in her eye.

She led Merlin up a long narrow staircase in the north tower, snatching a lit torch along the way. Inside was just a surprisingly large empty room with arguably the largest open window the castle possessed. The moonlight illuminated the cavernous chamber and with the addition of the torch's flame being passed on to several other light fixtures, it almost seemed as if daylight had arrived early. The only objects in the room besides Merlin and Morgana was an old chest, an enormous bookshelf, and a couple dust ridden arm chairs that were covered by a tinted sheet from age. Morgana took no time unhinging the top to the prehistoric-looking trunk. She pulled out two swords that were both concealed under what looked to be pillow cases. She smiled to herself as she brushed away several years of grime. Merlin released a couple sneezes that Morgana for some reason found to be adorable.

"What is this place?" asked Merlin in between sneezes.

"This, Merlin, is the Cave of ArMor," she smiled fondly, striding to the stone wall and rubbing her hand atop the surface. An engraving appeared behind years of dust It appeared to have been scratched in by a child, judging by the penmanship.

"You mean _armor_?" he said with an upward inflection.

"No, I meant Ar-Mor," she laughed, sharing a joke with herself. "Arthur created the name. You see, we came across this place when I was visiting, before my Father passed. We must have been no more than seven... maybe younger. We spent the whole day in here, play fighting with these dulled swords and all sorts of games. When I came to Camelot to live years later I was having a difficult time adjusting without my Father, and Arthur brought me back up here to remind me of the good times we shared and he deemed it the Cave of ArMor because he saw it an even compromise. His name came first, but I hold more letters in the name... it made more sense at the time. It's silly, I know–"

"No," he insisted, hating to hear childhood memories she shared with Prince Prat. "It's not silly, it's... it is er– _charming_."

_Charming_? He wanted to kick himself. Who in the right bloody mind says _charming _in an instance like that? Morgana smiled, however, and placed her injured hand thankfully on Merlin's upper arm.

"Don't tell Arthur that," she smirked, pulling her hand away though Merlin wished she wouldn't. "He can barely fit his thick skull through the corridors as it is. I fear if his ego is fed anymore then he will surely lose his ability to walk. It's a wonder he manages to balance that big head of his upon his shoulders now."

Merlin smirked at her response before they both realized that a significant bloodstain in the shape of her thumb, index and middle finger had remained behind upon his brown faded leather jacket. Merlin instinctively grasped Morgana's hand to examine the source of the blood. She twinged slightly, realizing just then how badly her cut did hurt. The thick red liquid was slowly trickling down her fingertips and made a tiny pool between them.

"My Lady, you're injured, what happened?" asked Merlin fretfully. She quickly pulled her hand away, embarrassed.

"It's nothing," she said. "I just dropped a mirror not long before you arrived at my door, and I must have cut myself by accident trying to clean it up."

"Here," said Merlin, untying his blue bandana. He took her palm in his again and tightly tied it around her delicate palm. He couldn't help but wonder if his simple bandana was the most inferior linen she's ever felt against her skin.

"Thank you, Merlin," she smiled thankfully.

"We don't have to do this now," said Merlin kindly. "If you're injured–"

"Nonsense," she replied with much energy in her voice. She picked up the second sword from behind her and tossed it to Merlin. He awkwardly held onto it, coming dangerously close to dropping it to the floor. "I've fought much more afflicted than this, and I fear if we do not then you could receive much more than a scratched palm at the hand of Arthur Pendragon."

"You're sure?"

"Rule #5 of battle, Merlin," she teased. "Never sympathize with your enemy, _they will always betray you_."

"But you're not my enemy," he replied helplessly.

"Yet," she corrected him, referring to her status as his opposition, "but I will be."

"Alright," Merlin nodded.

"Oh, and you'll need this too," said Morgana.

Morgana turned her back to Merlin and pulled out an old wooden shield. The young warlock didn't manage to catch this object Morgana tossed at him. In fact he dropped the sword he'd been holding so inelegantly as well. Fumbling to pick them back up, Morgana eyed him up and down with her haunting green eyes.

"Hold the shield in front of your chest and your sword next to it with your arm slightly bent," Morgana instructed as her Father, Gorlois, had done so to her when she was barely big enough to hold a weapon. "This is the ready position."

Merlin obeyed and with a bit of assistance from his instructor, he transformed into a temporary warrior. Yeah, he laughed at the idea too. Morgana casually strolled around her student, judging his posture intently. She gently placed her hand over his and adjusted his grip. Morgana felt a disconcerting warmth seeping from her hidden gem. It frightened her slightly, wondering why this heat radiated from this mysterious stone when she placed her palm upon this simple servant's. She quickly pulled away, matching Merlin's blush. She cleared her throat and backed away to stand before Merlin.

"Always ensure that your body is balanced and properly positioned, to make the most powerful moves as well as parry effectively," she explained. "Make good judgment of the prevailing conditions. A clever fighter will quickly analyze all the weak and strong points of the opponent, keep a keen eye because Arthur has few."

"What would an example of his flaws be?"

"Well, let's just hope a pretty girl walks by," she smirked. "That's the only reason he ever breaks concentration."

"Oh, alright," Merlin grunted, feeling a bit more nervous.

"But you always must be able to make a quick assessment of the surroundings with respect to his aiding and detrimental factors in the initial stage of the fight," Morgana went on. "The difference between two fighters is not based on their skill and expertize alone, but on how well they read the other fighter and the surrounding conditions. Always charge and attack with a great deal of confidence but a level-headed approach. Never get excited or carried away, during the course of a fight."

"I can assure you, milady," Merlin began. "I will bare no excitement."

Morgana laughed lightly and continued.

"Concerning your form, your elbows should not be stretched, but bent towards the body. It is the sword which has to be extended in the direction of the opponent and not the arms," she explained. "Stand perpendicular to your opponent, with the sword directly pointed at the opponent. This will ensure that minimum part of your body is facing the opponent with a decreased chance of getting hit. Accuracy and agility are the most crucial elements of a sword fight and determine the outcome of a fight. Therefore, even if your opponent has a better weapon or power, your supple movements and skill will give you a big edge in a sword fight."

"So do you think I could have a chance at beating Arthur?"

"Er– no," she admitted, smiling apologetically, "but I think you could manage a couple decent blows to his body and ego alike if you follow my instructions. Now, let me teach you first position."

–

Morgana wielded her sword high above her head, striding forward and causing Merlin to strategically duck behind his shield. She thrust her blade forward, clanging against Merlin's shield again. He pushed her sword to the side and effectively thrashed his weapon against her unsuspecting shield and succeeded in knocking Morgana onto her backside. He instantly dropped his weapon and shield to help Morgana up, feeling so terribly for potentially injuring her. However, before he could even ask if she was alright, Morgana hopped up with a wider smile that Merlin had ever seen. He almost fell onto his own backside when Morgana blindsided him with a quick hug before pulling away and looking up into his fierce blue eyes.

"Merlin!" she exclaimed, out of breath. "That was brilliant!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–"

"Don't apologize!" she beamed. "For only having a couple hours of training... I mean, that was marvelous!"

"Really?" he asked bashfully.

"Really," she insisted, nodding her head once. "How about we take a breath for a few minutes? I know you must be tired."

Merlin nodded his agreement and followed Morgana to the large open windowsill. Morgana hopped up and pulled her knees up against her chest, propping her chin upon her knees as she looked out onto the city. Merlin climbed onto the edge, hanging on leg outside and one planted on the floor. He kept glancing over at the expression on Morgana's face every few seconds.

"This is my favorite spot in the entire castle," she said whimsically, her eyes sparkling. "It's the best view of the city, without contest."

"Yeah, it's beautiful," he breathed, looking at Morgana rather than the dimly lit city. She didn't need to look over at Merlin, she could feel his gaze on her. She blushed, biting her lip to fight a smile.

"You know, there really is something special about this place," she said quietly, spotting an woman in the distance pulling a car into her home and pondering how different they really were. She drew her gaze onto Merlin who was now intently staring at the city below. "I would have rather died than live here when I was young, but I have gained an appreciation that is unimaginable."

"The circumstances... I mean, it must have been hard being so young and all to have to be uprooted and taken to a new home so abruptly," said Merlin awkwardly. "I'm sorry you had to go through something so traumatic like losing a parent."

Morgana swallowed hard, genuinely thankful she had met Merlin. She liked him a lot even though they'd known each other for only a few days. She liked him a lot actually, maybe a bit too much.

"Yeah, my Father and I were very close," she explained quietly. "I mean, I lost my Mother at birth so I don't really remember her, but when I lost my Father... it was hard. What about you, Merlin? Are your parents still alive and well?"

"I never met my Father," he shrugged. "I don't even know his name, my Mum never talked about him, and it was a subject that I never felt comfortable bringing up to her. My Mum still lives in Ealdor, where I grew up. It's nothing much, most people don't even know it exists. It's just a small village with a couple hundred people, the winters are cold, but the people aren't, and it's just home."

"It sounds wonderful," said Morgana genuinely. "Your mother must be a strong woman to raise you on her own."

"It's a lot different from Camelot," he continued. "That's for certain, but that's not necessarily all that bad sometimes, and yeah, she is and I'm lucky to have her."

"Camelot is lucky to have you," said Morgana before she could stop herself.

"Thanks," said Merlin awkwardly.

"Merlin, I–"

"Who's up there?" a burly voice echoed.

The distant glow from the North tower must have alerted the guards. The clanging of their armor could be heard growing nearer along with their footsteps. Merlin and Morgana froze, their necks both jerking to share worried glances. Gaius would kill Merlin if he drew anymore unwanted attention onto himself, and Uther had made it perfectly clear that if Morgana stepped another toe out of line that she would suffer his wrath. Merlin panicked, knowing the only way out was through the very door the guards were running up. A wily smile grew on Morgana's face as she snatched a torch and gripped Merlin's hand in hers, dragging him towards the bookcase. She pulled down on an emerald green hardback and the bookcase instantly began to turn open. Morgana pulled Merlin inside and pushed the opening shut just as the guards stormed in through the door.

Merlin didn't expect another hidden staircase to e concealed behind the simple bookcase. Morgana led him down the dark and narrow staircase, using a simmering torch as their only light source. Morgana felt the warmth of her stone necklace upon her chest begin to heat up again as she kept her hand tight within Merlin's to lead him deeper into the castle. Merlin's hand tingled from the sensation of her skin against his, a feeling he wished would never fade. They walked for what seemed like an eternity until they came to a fork in the stairs. One option was a heavy wooden door and the other looked to be a second bookshelf.

"Alright, we are presented with a difficult situation," said Morgana quietly. "The door is locked, it has never been used since my first trip here. Our only other option is sneaking through this bookcase."

"What's wrong with that?" he inquired.

"The bookcase opens into Arthur's chambers," she smirked.

Merlin immediately pushed himself desperately against the locked door, twisting the knob like mad. Morgana snorted a laugh and gently pulled a lever next to their only other means of escape. She put her index finger to her lips and beckoned him to follow behind her.

Arthur was asleep, they could tell by the boar-like snoring that rang throughout his large bedroom. They tiptoed towards the door, cringing every time Arthur would swallow or snort. As quietly as possible, Morgana unlatched Arthur's door. She apparently was quiet enough because Arthur abruptly shot up from his slumber, still half asleep.

"Morgana?" he yawned lethargically. "Merlin?"

"Silly Arthur," said Morgana, no fear in her voice. "You're dreaming."

"But you're..."

"If you were awake, why would Merlin and I be in your chambers after midnight?" she replied gently.

"Oh, right," he said, collapsing back onto his mattress as if he's fainted. He began to snore as soon as he head hit his pillow.

Morgana rolled her eyes and motioned for Merlin to sneak out before her. They quietly closed the door behind them and darted towards Morgana's chambers, hiding from more guards along the way. As soon as they reached Morgana's chambers they slammed the door behind them, locking the latch and collapsing against the door beside one another. They allowed their backs to fall against the door as they sunk to the floor. A minute passed before they regained their breaths. They looked at each other at the same time and burst into a fit of laughter. Their laughter didn't last long, however, for a knock on the door brought them to an instant silence.

"Morgana?" it was Arthur, clearly awake now.

Morgana pointed wordlessly to her changing curtains. Merlin stumbled to where she had pointed and quickly pulled the heavy violet curtains around him.

"Morgana, I know you're in there," Arthur knocked, annoyance in his voice.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. Morgana pulled her clothing off, thankfully till wearing the white slip she had tucked into her pants that had previously been worn under her nightgown. She untied her hair, threw her discarded clothing under her bed, and grabbed her robe from atop the hook beside her door. Running her fingers quickly through her hair, Morgana tried to put on a face as if Arthur had woken her from her slumber. Pulling back the door, Morgana released a melodramatic yawn and rubbed her eyes.

"Arthur?" she yawned. "To what do I owe this displeasure?"

"I had a strange dream," he said, looking her up and down and seeing straight through her facade.

"Arthur, don't you think you're a bit too old and bit too male to have to seek me out whenever you have a bad dream," she replied curtly.

"Oh, don't even go there," he retorted. "You tell me about some nightmare you have about me at least once a week... but, that isn't why I'm here."

"Well, then spit it out already," she frowned. "I was sleeping."

"We both know that's not true," he said fiercely. "You were in the North Tower, and you snuck back through my bedroom like you used to."

"Those are some serious accusations," she snapped. "Where is your proof?"

"The guards woke me up just a few moments ago to inform me we had some intruders in the North Tower, and my dream seemed to verify who exactly that intruder was," he went on. "Why were you up there, and did I lose my mind or was my servant with you?"

"You've lost your mind," she said. "Anyone could have been up there, and you more than anyone I know think dreams are nonsense."

"It wasn't a dream," he argued. "I was awake!"

"You've lost me," said Morgana, acting oblivious and tilting her head to the side and narrowing her gaze. "You had a dream while you were awake?"

"I– no, I mean that I–"

"What exactly?"

"I saw you!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, I'm right in front of you," she said slowly, condescending him.

"No, in my bedroom," he insisted.

"Now you're accusing me of being in your chambers after hours?" she said, releasing a faux gasp. "How dare you insult my honor."

"You and I both know neither of us have been honorable in years," he smirked, winking at her. Morgana rolled her eyes and released a huff of air.

"Only in your dreams," she said cheekily, "and my nightmares."

"Oh, very funny," he sighed. "Just go to bed, and try to keep out of trouble at least until morning."

"Yes, sire," she teased, moving into a mocking curtsy. Arthur was just about to stomp away in an annoyed fury, but he paused when he saw a bloody wrap around Morgana's palm. He reached out and grabbed her hand to examine it.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned, eyeing the immense amount of blood that had stained the cloth.

"Fine," she snapped, pulling her hand from his grasp and holding it behind her back. "I dropped a mirror and cut myself cleaning it up."

"Those hand mirrors sure can be dangerous," he teased. "Be more careful next time when you're admiring yourself."

"Just get out," she sneered, shoving his chest backwards. He grabbed his heart with both hands and pretended to stumble as if she'd genuinely hurt his feelings. Morgana rolled her eyes and locked the door behind him. She walked towards her curtains.

"He's gone, you can come out now," she said kindly.

Silence.

"Merlin?" she repeated, tentatively pulling back the velvet curtains.

Morgana smiled to herself at the sight she came upon. Merlin was sound asleep with his cheek on the cold stone floor and his rump in the air. He must have lost his battle with exhaustion as he peeked through the curtain at Arthur. Morgana simply took a pillow and blanket off her bed and gently rolled him onto his side and onto one of her pillows so his cheek rested on goose feathers rather than rock. Then she covered him with her fur blanket and closed the curtains back around him. The sun would rise in a few hours and there was no point having him leave now. Besides, Merlin would unintentionally keep her from further meddling with her mysterious dagger. Yes, Morgana would let him sleep in her chambers for the night, _they were friends after all_.

–

_**A/N: **__I'm sorry for taking ages to update! I wasn't inspired, and I was super busy lately! I hope you liked this, however, because I did. This is sort of a prequel for 'Knight Valiant.' I know a couple people weren't liking it following so close to the episodes, and I sort of agree. Therefore, I made this to make everyone happy. Pay attention to little details and foreshadowing in this chapter. It will play a big part in the future, even the next chapter._

_**PS: **__Everyone knows by now that Arthur and Morgana are both the offspring of Uther since 3x05, but I'm either going to ignore that fact or just go with legend and not care (because they had a child together knowing they were half-siblings in legend anyhow). ArMor will begin to dissipate soon in this fic, no worries._

_**PSS: **__Excuse any typos for now. I haven't had time to edit yet. BYE=)_

_**Coming Soon:**__ Knight Valiant, Arthur finds evidence of Morgana's lie, and Merlin... is just Merlin._

–

_**Review.**_


	4. Chapter 4: Knight Valiant Part 1

_**Chapter Four**_

_Knight Valiant  
(Part One)_

–

_There is a thin line between love and hate._

–

Merlin would have liked to have said he was woken by the sweet words of the Lady Morgana, the subtle rays of sun warming his face, or even the swift knocks of Gaius. However, the shrill screams of Guinevere would have to suffice. When the pretty young maid pulled back her mistress's curtains to welcome in the morning sun, she instead welcomed the sight of Merlin, still sound asleep on Morgana's floor. He'd have to admit that it was the best night of sleep he'd had in ages, even though it was on the stone floor. Morgana's pillows and fur blanket were top of the line in comfort, there was no denying that.

As soon as Merlin rolled over onto his side, he made eye contact with Gwen who screamed bloody murder as soon as their eyes met. Merlin shouted as soon as she did causing a chain reaction. Morgana shot up from her slumber as Gwen turned to her with her mouth still ajar and releasing a high-pitched shriek. Morgana screamed in shock as well, figuring something terrible must have happened. She then ungracefully toppled out of her bed, bringing all of her bedding on top of her. She stumbled to her feet, looking like a ghost with a sheet over her head. Taking a step or two forward, she fell again before finally shaking her blankets free of her. She swatted the sheets away and glared over at Merlin and Gwen who were still yelling for what appeared to be for no particular reason now. Morgana's hair was askew, much of it in her eyes. Huffing a large strand from her eyes, she took charge of the situation.

"Alright, everyone shut up," she said fiercely.

Both of her companions slammed their mouths shut in an instant.

"Gwen, I was teaching Merlin how to manage a sword last night for his training session this morning," she explained to her still startled maid. "It was late and Arthur showed up, and Merlin fell asleep hiding behind the curtain."

"Oh," she replied simply. "That explains why Arthur has been looking all over for you this morning, Merlin, I think you're a bit late–"

Before she could finish, Merlin was running for the door, leaving it wide open behind him with the two women looking after him wearing indifferent expressions.

"He's very odd, you know?" said Gwen simply, still looking at the open doorway.

Morgana merely nodded and Gwen knew she had done so without even looking at her mistress.

–

Merlin held his jacket in his arms as he sprinted towards the practice pitch. Arthur was standing in full armor, looking annoyed. He didn't say a single word to his manservant as Merlin nearly slid into his armor that Mylor had most likely sat aside for him in his absence. He was hoping that he was throwing on the proper pieces after only speaking of dressing armor in casual conversation with Gwen on few occasions. He would have to remember to ask he how to properly put on armor when he had more time. His dulled sword and shield were firmly planted in the cool earth beside him. He yanked his ill-fitted helmet on his head as he ran Morgana's rules in his head. First position... alright, then next comes–

"Ah!" Merlin wailed, ducking Arthur's sword at the last moment. He hadn't expected Arthur to act so quickly.

"On your toes, Merlin," Arthur laughed hollowly. "My footwork won't improve if my sparing partner just stands there like a wooden spoke! Move as I tell you – body, shield, body, shield! Left, right, left, right!"

"Yes, sire," Merlin conceded, holding up his shield to block the opposing strike from Arthur who was still shouting directions. He tried to remember everything Morgana had told him, but his mind was so hazy from exhaustion and nerves that he could barely concentrate. Arthur thrashed away as Merlin struggled to block his sword. He figured Morgana would not be proud of him, seeing as Arthur had successfully found a way to turn his helmet completely around to the back of his head so all Merlin could see was darkness before falling to the ground. After about two hours (that seemed like an eternity), Merlin collapsed to the earth for one final time on his back. Arthur smiled in an amused sort of way and did something Merlin didn't expect, Arthur extended his hand. Merlin accepted the kind gesture and fumbled to his feet. His ears were ringing and he was moderately certain that at least 20 bones in his body were broken, but he'd survived.

"_Usually_, my early morning training sessions only last an hour, but my servants are also _usually_ on time," he smirked.

"My apologies, sire," he nodded, catching his breath and realizing how out of shape he was. "It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," he said firmly but no malevolence in his voice. "But I must hand it to you, Merlin, you're braver than you look. Most of my servants collapse after the first blow. Been bribing the knights to give you a few pointers, have you?"

"Er– something like that," he smiled innocently.

Merlin took the pair's excess practice weapons and piled them together as he took off his misplaced armor and haphazardly adjusted the prince's. Merlin pulled on his discarded jacket and leaned down to pick up the two shield and other items to lug inside the castle when Arthur noticed something peculiar on Merlin's sleeve as he stretched his back. Arthur froze, his eyes outlining the dark red stain on his servant's upper arm. It was a hand print, a bloody hand print. His arms fell loose, staring determinedly at Merlin's arm. It made sense. Merlin was missing his typical bandana around his neck, and Arthur now knew exactly where it was: tied around Morgana's palm. Without another word, Arthur stomped off towards the castle. Merlin was mid-sentence to the prince as he adjusted the leather strap around his shoulder. When Merlin looked up to meet Arthur's gaze all he saw was air. He jerked his head along the prince's path, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"Where are you going?" Merlin called after him. "The tournament starts in an hour!"

Arthur ignored his calls, he didn't know why he didn't just ask Merlin the questions he needed answered. Arthur figured if something was going on like he worried it was the he wanted to hear it from the mouth of one person in particular. Now storming inside the castle, Arthur was in search of one person and one person alone: the Lady Morgana.

–

"If that's all, milady, I think I may go and try to find Merlin before he has to dress Arthur in his armor for the tournament this afternoon," said Gwen as she collected Morgana's laundry.

"Of course, Gwen," Morgana smiled and nodded, distracted with her own thoughts.

Gwen grinned thankfully and departed out of sight. Morgana had been distracted all morning, staring absentmindedly out the window down onto the tournament pitch. Her thoughts were mixed of worry for Arthur's safety and fright for herself concerning her mysterious necklace. She sat on her open windowsill, counting how many contestants were slowly beginning to arrive. Her stomach churned, imagining all the terrible things that could happen in the heat of battle in front of hundreds of bloodthirsty onlookers. She didn't even realize she was twirling the yellow stone between her thumb and index fingers of her injured hand that still ached slightly in pain. When she caught a glance of Merlin, running into a bashful Guinevere, she inadvertently closed her hand around the odd stone.

She winced in pain, releasing the stone and cursing herself for her involuntary action. She groaned and hastily untied Merlin's bandana she had been meaning to replace since the night prior to see if she reopened the gash. However, when Morgana pulled back the final wrapping of the cloth she saw nothing. The cut seemed to have never existed, no scaring or sign of her injury remained. Frantically, turning her hand front to back, Morgana couldn't understand what had happened. One second it was there and the next... gone. It was then that she noticed it, the glow of the stone around her neck. The stone must have healed her wound. The bandana drifted from her palm out the window and onto the grass below after a gently flight in the wind. Morgana's expression was half frightened and half intrigued as she examined the jewel closer, narrowing her gaze. She released the stone down the front of her emerald green down at the shocking sound of an unannounced intruder in her chambers. She gasped and took to her feet to see it was only Arthur. He had been running apparently because he had almost slid completely by her bedroom if he hadn't gripped the corners of her door frame to catch himself.

"Have you lost your mind?" she gasped, sending him a confused glare.

"I could ask you the same question," he replied, out of breath.

"I haven't the time for silly games, Arthur," she sighed, utterly uninterested, "and neither do you. I thought your first match was in an hour–"

"Let me see your hand," he interrupted.

"What?" she snorted.

"You heard me, let me see your hand," he repeated.

Morgana rolled her eyes.

"Which one may I ask?" she said in an annoyed tone, testing him as she had so many times before. "Do you have a preference?"

"The injured one," he said fiercely.

"My hands are perfectly healthy," she said simply, "which is more than I can say for your state of your mind."

"Stop kidding around, Morgana, I–" he strode forward and took both of her hands in his, flipping them back and forth like Morgana had moments prior when she first discovered her ailment had healed. She wore a similar expression Arthur wore just then as well.

"Satisfied?" she huffed, jerking her hands free of his.

"But last night..." he drifted off in thought. "You were bleeding... the broken mirror... bandana... jacket stain."

"Arthur, are you perfectly alright?" asked Morgana thoughtfully, putting on her best show as she cupped his cheek in what had just been her wounded palm. Arthur leaned his cheek in ever so gently against Morgana's soft skin, closing his eyes momentarily to replay the last twenty four hours in his head. Morgana and Merlin _had_ popped up in his bedroom in the middle of the night, Morgana's hand _was_ injured, she _was_ wearing Merlin's bandana around her palm, and that explained the bloody stain on Merlin's jacket and why he was missing his bandana. It all added up and made no sense at all at the same time.

"We spoke last night," he said slowly, reopening his eyes. "I asked you what happened to your palm and you told me you cut yourself on your broken mirror by accident."

"I don't recall that at all," she said, "and as you can see my hand mirror is perfectly intact. Are you sure you're feeling alright? You really do look tired, have you not been sleeping well?"

"I was sleeping like a baby before I was woken up by two intruders in my chambers," he said in a suddenly furious voice, regretfully pulling away from Morgana's touch. "Then I couldn't fall back asleep after the guards woke me and–"

"This is all very interesting, Arthur, really it is, but if you don't leave now then you'll be late for your first match," said Morgana. "Now, what kind of prince is tardy to a tournament his own father is hosting?"

"But–" he began helplessly.

"Shh," said Morgana placing her index finger a bit too roughly against Arthur's lips to quiet him. "Not another word about this nonsense. You'll need a clear head to succeed today."

Arthur conceded and nodded slowly. Morgana may not be able to beat him religiously at swordplay any longer, but she would always remain undefeated in a battle of wits against the prince. She smiled warmly and stood on her tip toes to lightly kiss his cheek.

"Good luck, Arthur," she whispered in his ear.

Arthur tilted his face slightly towards Morgana to smell her scent, remember the texture of her hair, the softness of her skin against his. She did the same. Arthur tenderly held Morgana's cheek against his for entirely too long before holding her face before his. He sent her a reassuring smile, knowing she was worried about him like she was during every tournament he competed in. She bit her lower lip and forced a weak smile before Arthur turned, leaving her alone to drown in her thoughts with an odd feeling of dissatisfaction that she was unaccustomed too.

She released a heavy sigh as soon as she knew for certain Arthur was gone. She felt guilty, lying to Arthur. She never lied to him, ever. The two of them had always shared everything, no matter what. However, for some reason Morgana didn't feel safe speaking to Arthur about the potential of magic latching itself around her very neck. He was still a Pendragon after all, and he would always be loyal to his father, and Uther would always be loyal to his war on magic. And it frightened Morgana that she, herself, could be fighting on the wrong side of that war, whatever side that was.

–

Merlin fumbled to tighten the metal armor on Arthur's wrist as the pair stood amongst the nearby tents of competitors. He was suddenly in a more annoyed mood than usual. Merlin didn't know for sure where Arthur went, but he knew when he came back from where ever he was put him on edge. He kept staring straight ahead, deep in thought. Merlin told himself that Arthur must be trying to concentrate on his task ahead, but something told him it wasn't just that.

"You do know the competition is today," said Arthur with an upward inflection.

"Yes, sire," said Merlin, forcing a grin. "You nervous?"

"No, of course not," he replied as if Merlin had asked him the stupidest question on the planet. "I don't get nervous."

"Really?" asked Merlin kindly. "I thought everyone gets nervous."

"Will you shut up?"

Merlin smiled weakly and nodded his apology. He didn't make another sound as he finished his dressing of Arthur in his remaining armor. Even someone as emotionally dimwitted as Arthur Pendragon could tell he'd hurt Merlin's... dare he say it... feelings. Arthur took a deep breath and rolled his eyes at himself for what he was about to do.

"Sorry," he muttered reluctantly so quietly that Merlin barely heard him. "I have a lot on my mind, and I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"'S alright," said Merlin, suddenly in much better spirits.

Merlin tied Arthur's cape around his neck and placed his helmet in the prince's hand. Stepping back, Merlin had to hand it to himself, Arthur looked as well put together as any other competitor. He smiled like a proud parent and nodded at his finished project. Arthur's short temper returned as he huffed his displeasure at his newest servant. Arthur waited a moment as if to give Merlin a chance to remember what he'd forgotten. Unfortunately, Merlin had no idea what was missing.

"Great, you're all set," said Merlin, still smiling as if everything was right a rain.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" asked Arthur, widening his eyes to urge him to recall the forgotten item. When Merlin stared blankly back at him he decided to just rudely inform his servant instead. "My sword..."

"Oh, yeah," said the warlock, smiling naively. He darted to the sword rack and snatched up the prince's chosen sword. "Here you are."

Arthur yanked the weapon from his hands and stomped off toward the pitch leaving Merlin feeling relieved that he'd survived the experience.

"That went well," Merlin said to himself, heaving a heavy breath.

–

Morgana rounded the corner to enter the stadium with Guinevere by her side. They were both speaking rather fast about the gossip either of them had heard about the visiting warriors. Morgana had earned a deep blush from Gwen after just telling her a particularly crude rumor about Sir Devlin and his rumored overnight wedding and divorce from Princess Mary of Glen.

"– and Lady Fiona told me that King Grigor was so upset that he locked his own daughter in the stocks for a week after he banished Sir Devlin to Shallot," said Morgana as Gwen gasped. "Isn't it all just deliciously scandalous?"

"Well, I heard that Sir Devlin was only knighted because Queen Eleanor begged her husband to make him a titled member of the court to avoid further shame," said Gwen quietly, looking over her shoulders so no one would here. "They couldn't bare to have her daughter a wife of a servant."

"I think that is–" started Morgana.

Morgana's sentiment came to a halt for Merlin had rounded the corner of the entrance to the pitch and nearly plowed right into them. All three sets of eyes widened and froze before one another. Morgana and Gwen grabbed their chests and laughed lightly as Merlin rubbed the back of his neck shyly.

"Merlin, it seems I'm always running into you," said Morgana humorously, her chest feeling warm against the heat being exhumed from the stone dangling hidden between her breasts.

"Sorry," he smirked, feeling his heart beat a bit faster for some reason.

"Going to watch Arthur's match, are you?" asked Morgana, noticing Gwen was still a bit too flustered to speak.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I wager you both are–"

"How did things go with Arthur?" asked Gwen as if she'd been trying to spit out her question all along.

"Not terribly bad," said Merlin. "Thanks again, Gwen."

"And this morning?" asked Morgana, catching Gwen's blush from the corner of her eye.

"I survived," he smiled fleetingly. "I cannot thank you enough, milady. How is your h–"

He looked down at the virtual princess's hand to ask about her injury, but he couldn't manage to find his words. Morgana's hands were completely flawless. He knew for a fact that she had a sizable gash on her palm the night before. He'd even tended to her wound with his own bandana. Morgana noticed that Merlin was looking at her palm, and she quickly latched her hands behind her back and smiled innocently, pretending she didn't hear Merlin's prior partial inquiry.

"Morgana," said a surly voice from behind the raven-haired beauty. It was King Uther Pendragon. Gwen and Merlin instantly lowered their heads. "I wondered where you'd gone off to. Shall I escort you to your seat?"

"Thank you, my Lord," said Morgana kindly, curtsying to the King and accepting his arm and striding towards their thrones before the pitch. Gwen followed in toe, smiling back at Merlin for only a second as he continued to sport his confused and blank expression. After the girls took their designated seats, Uther took to his place upon the pitch to deliver his introductory speech they'd all heard countless times before. Merlin opted to lean against the wall leading into the stadium, looking absentmindedly over at Morgana before he heard Uther's voice yet again.

"Knights of the realm," Uther began, striding before the two dozen competitors. "It is a great honor to welcome you to this tournament in Camelot. Over the next three days you will have your bravery put to the test as well as your skills as warriors, and of course challenge the reigning champion, my son, Prince Arthur."

Morgana noticed Arthur and Knight Valiant exchange what could only be described as threatening glances. She peered over at Gwen, who had noticed the wicked glares as well, and both of the women shared worried expressions.

"Only one will have the honor of being crowned Champion, and he will receive a prize of one thousand gold pieces," Uther went on as the treasure chest of gold was displayed to the onlookers. "It is in combat that we learn a knight's true nature, whether he is indeed a warrior or a coward. Let the tournament begin!"

Arthur nodded a split second before the other knights as his father concluded his oration. He had lied to Merlin, he was nervous, but only a bit mind you. Don't go getting any crazy ideas in your heads, Arthur Pendragon was no coward. Morgana watched as Uther whispered something in Arthur's ear that she deducted was something to increase the load of pressure that was already on his shoulders. She rolled her eyes as Uther took his seat beside her and looked on with a lust for blood as his son faced off against Sir Ewan that was mildly disturbing. Morgana cheered beside Gwen for the match to begin though her stomach turned with great ferocity beneath her bosom. Merlin caught Morgana's eye for just a moment before Arthur squared off against his opponent. Her face appeared docile and regal though just before she turned back to the match, Merlin noticed the slightest hint of fear behind her pale green eyes. He stared on at the prince as the match began.

Merlin had never seen a real sword fight before, though he supposed he took part in one in a manner of speaking. They were much more impressive than he expected as was Arthur's grace and competence with a sword. There was no question that Prince Arthur of Camelot was a master of swordplay. The art of swordsmanship had been bashed in his brain so determinedly over the years that he could almost predict his opponents every move and set up a defense accordingly. Merlin found himself shouting and cheering along with the rest of the crowd as Arthur battled Sir Ewan until he came out the victor as Sir Ewan fell harshly onto the softened earth. Unlike many competitors, Arthur had a sense of class and respect. He extended his arm and helped Sir Ewan to his feet, bowing honorably to the fallen warrior. He then raised his arm in glory and nodded to his father who couldn't have looked more proud.

The tournament continued with a number of other first round matches between the other knights. Each competitor was allowed two matches the first day to weed out the weakest fighters. Arthur won his second match against Sir Devlin as well which left him only the job of looking on and judging his competition. His only real threat, he declared, was Knight Valiant. He was the largest of the men competing and his strength was unimaginable. He attained a hardened expression and a rigid jaw that did a decent job of intimidating most who saw him. Arthur began to worry, yet again only slightly, that Valiant could possibly beat him. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't even notice that the man he had been sizing up all day was walking right at himself and Merlin, who was helping him take off his armor. Arthur looked up at the burly man and waited for him to speak. Knight Valiant looked at Arthur with some tawdry expression that struggled to turn into reverence long enough to complete a verbal thought.

"May I offer my congratulations on your victories today," said Valiant with venom dripping from every syllable.

"Likewise," said Arthur as if it pained him to do so.

"See you at the reception this evening," he said, nodding.

Arthur merely stared on with Merlin, watching Valiant and his servant stomp off to their tent. Arthur's eyes noticeably narrowed enough that Merlin felt almost obligated to comment.

"Creep," Merlin scoffed after the large knight.

Arthur snorted a genuine laugh that he may have shared with someone like Sir Leon, but he instantly realized he had nearly shared a laugh with a servant and swallowed his smile as quickly as he had sported it.

"Right," Arthur began, pretending he and Merlin hadn't just laughed together. "For tomorrow, I need you to prepare my shield, wash my tunic, clean my boots, sharpen my sword, and polish my chainmail."

He then walked off, still have wearing his armor but too lost in thought to care, leaving Merlin to look on after him with an exasperated expression.

–

Morgana was dreading the reception Uther had forced her to attend. She hated being ogled at like a common piece of meat as each knight walked through the line of court members. She always had to stand beside Uther like a proper princess and smile and nod and smile and nod and smile and nod. It was rather exhausting really. All she could think about was the stone around her neck. It was a temperamental item, there was no denying that. She only wished she could find out what exactly it was and how to rid herself of it before anyone became suspicious of her new jewelery item. She sat on her velvet upholstered stool and twirled the mysterious mineral between her thumb and index finger as she typically did when she was alone.

She sighed heavily with despair, leaving a foggy breath stain upon her armoire mirror. When she lifted her hand to wipe away the smudge she froze at what she saw. The word "as" was written in calligraphy, clear as day. She gently touched the letter "a" but instantly pulled her hand back as the word faded immediately after her skin touched it. Looking back over her shoulder for any intruders, she gathered all her courage and blew hot breath on the same spot she had before. And as she had hoped, the word appeared again. She was then desperately trying to steam the entire mirror, climbing on her knees atop the armoire counter to reach the top. After she had successfully used every last breath in her, she placed her feet back on the stone floor, gasping for air, and stared up at what had turned out to be a sort of half-sonnet, half-message.

_Although you fear all hope is bleak,  
__search out the answers that you seek._

_For the power belongs to you alone,  
__as you possess the Everstone._

_Everstone_? Was that what the enigmatic jewel was. She had her first answer, and all she needed now was to find out exactly what an Everstone was, and how the bloody hell a message came to be written on her mirror and who had written it for that matter. Touching the mirror to erase the message again, she blew hit air on the now flawless mirror and wrote the words "Thank You" with her index finger to whomever had helped her. Stuffing the stone between her cleavage once again, Morgana darted off to the castle's archives in search of her answers and was apparently too flustered to notice the words "You are welcome, sister" appear for only a brief instant before disappearing as quickly as Morgana.

When she reached her destination she found the caretaker of the archive, the moody and rather dull, Geoffrey of Monmouth doing what he did best at his desk: sleeping. Morgana rolled her eyes and tiptoed by the snoozing old man, actually realizing she was thankful he was not awake to question her motives. She and Arthur had caused many a hijinks in the archives as children and because of that she had actually unintentionally grown to remember how many of the books were ordered. Pulling out an armful of heavy texts that she knew to contain pages to help readers identify rocks and such, Morgana held them close against he chest and darted by Geoffrey again to return to her bedroom.

Careful to avoid any curious guards, Morgana hid in the shadows of the darkening castle until she successfully reached her chambers and slammed the door behind her. Pouring the books atop her bed, she instantly realized it was a bad idea to toss dusty books on top of her freshly cleaned comforter. She flipped through dozens of pages of stones, none of which bore any resemblance or name as the jewel around her neck. Her sixth and final book appeared older than the rest. The binding was worn and falling apart and the ink was barely readable and faded from age. Carefully, Morgana flipped through the hundreds of pages before finally coming across precisely what she had been searching for. The title read "Everstone" and bore a drawing of a much larger version of her own stone necklace.

Morgana pressed her middle and index fingers upon the page, careful to read every word of the description:

_Arguably one of the most powerful of magical elements in ancient history, the Everstone places great responsibility upon its owner. Many years ago, five of the greatest sorcerers the world has ever known, wielded the Everstone as a mighty safeguard to ward off those who threatened the lives of magical beings. However, one creator grew corrupt with power and desired to use the stone as a weapon to seek vengeance on all those who contest the art of sorcery, which in turn forced the others to hatch a plan to ensure the safety of all mankind. The four virtuous architects of the Everstone secretly broke the stone into four pieces to be worn around their necks, so that no one person would hold more power than another. They banished the greedy sorceress from their midst and damned her to walk the earth, a shell of what she once was for the rest of her immortal days._

_The Everstone may only be possessed by a magical being for its abilities are deemed useless to those of mortal blood for to one without magic the element would be nothing more than a necklace with a golden rock, easily removed from one's throat without effort. Once one of the four portions of the Everstone choose a new possessor it will remain impenetrable as long as the barer still has breath in their body. _

_Though many of the Everstone's powers remain a mystery, it has been rumored that each piece grants the possessor the ability to heal mortal wounds and illness (though pay a price in return), detect others sorcerers in their midst, inhibit transportation, impose virtual immortality, allow desired transformation, mind control, and countless other capabilities that are still unknown to those who do not wield a piece of the rare element. It is of the utmost importance that all four stones remain divided, for if the pieces of the Everstone were to be united once again, unimaginable doom, death and destruction would undoubtedly follow._

"Morgana?" said a feminine voice from the King's ward's now open doorway. Morgana nearly jumped off her own bed with surprise, slamming her book closed in response and turned to send Gwen the most unbelievable smile she had ever mustered. She looked almost contorted in fear. "Is everything alright?"

"Y– Yes, of course," Morgana nodded in what Gwen could only refer to as an inhuman manner. "I was just doing... er– a bit of light reading."

"I'd hate to see what your heavy reading is like," said Gwen humorously, trying to break the tension. "Uther sent me to ensure you weren't tardy for the knights' reception. It begins in a few minutes. Are you ready?"

"I just need a moment to collect myself," she said quietly, trying desperately to calm her racing heart. Gwen nodded her understanding and closed the door behind her to wait outside a Morgana gathered her senses.

Morgana had never been more confused or more fearful in the entire twenty years of her short existence. She hastily opened the book once again and reread the description over and over. If she understood correctly, she was in possession of one of the most powerful elements on earth, but what was more terrifying than that fact was if the book's words were true then that meant only one thing. She, the Lady Morgana of Cornwall, was a sorceress.

–

_**A/N:**__ I'm an awful person. I took forever to update, and I am so sorry! I want to thank everyone who stuck with me and kept pestering me to update. It helped more than you know, and I am more determined now after Series 3 has concluded to rewrite Morgana's character and give her the depth and understanding she deserved. There wasn't a whole lot of Merlin in this chapter and even less Merlin/Morgana because my next chapter is going to be absolutely wrapped in M/M scenes. I want this fic to be a different take on the Series but remain as canon as possible relationship wise, so please don't complain that Arthur and Morgana still have their little fling or that Merlin and Morgana aren't having wild unadulterated shag sessions in the first 4 chapters. Things will progress as I continue. I need to set the side story for Morgana so I can end up where I want to end up with her and Merlin, so please bare with me._

_**Next Chapter:**__ Morgana struggles with denial, Merlin seeks out Morgana's help to save Arthur, and Merlin and Morgana both begin to realize they may not be all alone after all._

–

_**Review.**_


	5. Chapter 5: Knight Valiant Part 2

_**Chapter Five**_

_Knight Valiant  
(Part Two)_

–

_Without faith there is no truth,  
for that is all the truth is and ever was._

–

After returning the books she had borrowed from the archives (and ripping out the page of interest) Morgana went to meet Uther at the reception and acted as the perfect lady of the court she was supposed to be (even though she had the urge to vomit and faint at the same time). She knew she wouldn't be able to eat a bite of food at dinner, all she could focus on was her trembling figure. Nothing made sense anymore. A few days ago she was just the king's ward, best friend of Prince Arthur, noble lady of the court. She was privileged, she knew this, and now all she felt was unfortunate. If the book was true... oh, she couldn't bare the thought, but if the book spoke the truth then Morgana was a sorceress. She couldn't bring herself to believe it was even possible for her to have magic. She'd never used magic before, purposefully or by accident. She did have nightmares... and some did come to pass... and sometimes it was almost like she could see the future. No, that would be ridiculous.

If Uther found out she had even been researching anything related to magic then he'd see her burned at the stake, that was for certain. It terrified Morgana, imagining all of the faceless onlookers who both loathed and feared her as she was tied to the pyre and left to burn. Closing her eyes hard for just a moment, Morgana pictured Uther and Arthur staring down at her from their balcony as Uther gave the signal to light the base aflame. Tall walls of fire grew ever higher as black clouds of smoke filled her lungs. Morgana gasped at the imaginary scene she'd created in her mind as she reopened her eyes, noticing Knight Valiant was next in line to speak with the King. Uther had noticed her sudden gasp for air and gently placed his hand against the arch of her back.

"Are you quite alright, Morgana?" he asked in a concerned tone. "You seem distracted."

Morgana faked a tight smile and nodded up at him. She knew he could see right through her, but he couldn't inquire further because the line of knights were anxiously awaiting his personal greeting. The truth was, Morgana _was_ distracted. In fact, that was the understatement of the century. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, run down the corridors like a mad woman and release the built up tension inside her body. She was so antsy, so anxious that her chest felt as if it was confined in chains. All she wanted to do was go back to her chambers and think, be alone and think. She noticed Arthur down the line of knights and wished she could speak to him about what she had read, but she couldn't no matter how much she wanted to. Morgana couldn't even tell Gwen because she honestly had a fear that Gwen would be frightened her, never look at her the same even if the book was falsified. She thought she needed to be alone, but as she stood there in stunned silence, Morgana began to change her mind and desire company though she didn't know who exactly that entailed. Valiant approached Morgana after speaking with the King and bowed in an oddly seductive manner to her. Morgana forced a smile and bowed her head in return as Valiant took her hand and kissed it, catching Arthur clicking his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he watched her and Valiant with jealous eyes.

"I saw you in the stands watching me fight today," said Valiant. "It was most difficult to concentrate with such a beautiful creature as a distraction."

"You flatter me, sir," she said, trying to make an effort to appear as if she cared in the slightest.

"I understand the tournament champion has the honor of escorting my lady to the feast," he said, already knowing the answer. Morgana merely nodded, wishing Valiant would release her hand. "Then I will give my everything to win the tournament."

"Uh huh, that's wonderful," said Morgana with a blank smile, not really listening though she knew Arthur was getting the wrong idea from down the line. Valiant sent her a taken aback look, swallowed his pride, and walked to join the knights who had already gone through the procession. He looked back at her, still baffled at her rejection.

Morgana would have usually wallowed in the opportunity to make Arthur jealous by flirting with another handsome knight, but she could care less at that moment. She would shamelessly rather be before Arthur than Valiant. Ask her any other day, and she'd deny on pain of death that she even silently admitted something so candid about Arthur's importance to her. Gwen had just whispered something to Morgana about Valiant staring back at them, but it was drowned out by the brief greeting Uther and Arthur stared beside her. Arthur appeared in a rather sour mood as he strode before Morgana, still biting the inside of his cheek with his fingers laced behind his back.

"You seem rather impressed by Knight Valiant," said Arthur coolly, prepared to rip into Morgana at any moment. "Though you always were easily impress–"

Arthur was more taken aback than he'd ever been when Morgana abruptly shot forward and nearly knocked him on his backside as she wrapped her arms snugly around his neck. He instantly unlaced his fingers, his stature relaxing. Uther eyed them disapprovingly as a number of other knights and court members began to whisper and stare at the embracing pair. Arthur gently unlatched her arms from his neck after a moment, helping her steady herself before him and looking down into her now watery green eyes.

"What ever was that for?" he asked, smiling with a mixture of kindness, concern and somewhat amused expression upon his handsome face.

She wanted to tell him about the dagger, the stone, the message on her mirror, but she couldn't find the words.

"I'm just happy to see you is all," she said, choking slightly while she blinked away her tears and hastily wiped her face with the back of her hand to pretend she wasn't just about to lose control.

"What's w–" the prince began gently, taking her hands in his.

"Arthur," Uther interrupted, sending him a warning glare and nodded as if to imply he should go join the other knights instead of conversing so inappropriately with his ward. He nodded reluctantly his obedience and sent Morgana an apologetic look before walking off towards the others, looking back with a sorrowful expression.

That simple gesture confirmed her early belief. She knew now that Arthur would always obey his father's expectations before her, always. Morgana looked back regretfully at Arthur with his opponents, noticing Valiant was now missing. Swallowing her emotions again, she returned what little attention she had left to the remaining line of men.

–

_Valiant wielded his mighty sword as Arthur lay wounded and unconscious upon the cold, lonely earth. All Morgana could do was stare on with an expression of terror and helplessness. There was an odd sort of silent gasp in the air as Valiant lifted his sword high above his head and thrust it with one fierce thrust through Arthur's broad chest. The Prince was dead._

Morgana shot up from her bed, sweating and breathless. She'd asked Gwen to grant her the opportunity to get ready for bed by herself as she had some things on her mind. Even with some protest from a concerned Guinevere, Morgana ended up getting her way anyhow. She couldn't remember falling asleep, and she doubted she even intended to do so considering she was still wearing her outfit from the reception. She couldn't imagine being able to fall asleep when she had so much on her mind. She laid down across her bed to read and reread the page regarding the Everstone for what was undoubtedly the millionth time.

She pushed some loose strands of hair from her face that were currently stuck there from the sweat coating her skin, unaware her necklace had fallen from her cleavage. Morgana carefully rose to her feet and placed the page from the ancient archive on her table and slowly strode to her window, spotting Arthur and his father speaking with their heads knelt to one another as they crossed the courtyard surrounded by several knights in the darkness. Arthur hadn't come to check on her as she thought and hoped he would. No, his father's wishes came first as always. She found it ironic they were walking by the very spot Morgana would be burned at the stake if Uther were to find out about the stone.

"Milady?" said a quiet voice from the doorway causing Morgana to nearly jump out of her skin.

"Oh, Merlin," she breathed, trying to force a smile as she turned to face him. "You startled me."

"I seem to do that a lot," he smiled shyly, shrugging. "I came to bring you your potion from Gaius."

"Oh, of course," she nodded in a frantic sort of way, striding forward to take the potion from his hands. Her own hands were shaking so furiously that she could barely drink the substance without spilling some down her gown.

Merlin bowed respectfully to her and tried to pretend he didn't notice her erratic behavior. He turned for the door to give her the privacy he believed she wanted but froze when he heard Morgana call him back. She took a seat at the table she had just placed the page from the archive upon, her back facing the door and Merlin. She hung her head down before rubbing her chin and looking blankly at the armoire mirror across from her.

"Merlin, do you think Uther could be wrong?" she asked candidly. "– about magic I mean. Do you think that all magic is evil and... and dangerous as he says?"

To say Merlin was taken aback was an understatement. He would have never expected the king's ward to ask him such a potentially life threatening question. He wondered if it was a trap, so he chose a diplomatic response.

"I believe the King _thinks_ he is right," he said dumbly, causing Morgana to sigh, "that what he does is in Camelot's best interest."

"That will be all, Merlin, thank you," she frowned, allowing her face to fall into her palms.

Merlin had gone as far as gripping the door frame to leave the distraught king's ward alone, but he couldn't bring himself to just walk away with her in such a state. He took a deep breath and turned around and walked towards Morgana, taking hold of the back the chair opposite of her own. Morgana didn't even notice he was still in the room. He noticed the ripped page between Morgana's elbows propped up on the table and the stone upon her necklace that hung atop the page. Though he quickly read the title, he chose not to inquire further to its importance.

"I believe the King _thinks_ he is right," Merlin repeated, pulling out the chair to sit across from Morgana as she looked up at him with stunned surprise, "but _I also think_ his pride has caused his judgment to grow foggy."

Morgana stared deep into Merlin's eyes, blinking through tears and urging Merlin to elaborate.

"_I think_ that there are two very different types of magic," he went on, Morgana hanging on his every word. "One kind should be feared, for its intentions are dark and vengeful, but I think there is another form of magic that the King so easily ignores and that is magic used as a force for good. So to answer your question, milady: No, I do not_ think_ all magic is dangerous, and it isn't something to be afraid of."

The king's ward nodded her approval of his answer. It was exactly what she wanted and _needed_ to hear. Merlin tilted his head to the side, "May I ask why you had such an inquiry? Is everything alright?"

"I don't know, Merlin," she said slowly. "I don't understand anything anymore."

–

Merlin walked through Gaius's chambers, scratching his head and looking perplexed. He had almost reached his bedroom before Gaius stopped him.

"Merlin, are you quite alright?" he inquired. "You look rather out of sorts."

"I'm fine," he said slowly. "It's Morgana I'm worried about."

"Morgana?" said Gaius, suddenly much more interested. "What's wrong with her?"

"I- I don't know, honestly," said Merlin, shrugging and leaning his back against the wall just beside his open door. "She's been acting strangely. She's been jumpy, on edge–"

"Have you forgotten about the tournament?" Gaius laughed lightly, returning to his potions, pouring a bubbling substance from a beaker into a boiling bowl of green liquid. "Morgana is always on edge when Arthur is competing."

"I don't think that's it," said Merlin, running his fingers through his hair. "When I went to deliver her sleeping draught, she was crying and asked me a rather odd question."

"Oh, what was that?" asked Gaius, smiling to himself as he tilted a beaker with a steaming blue substance carefully into the bowl.

"She asked me if I thought Uther was wrong," he said. "– about magic."

"Morgana has never been fond of Uther's rather barbaric approach to magic," said Gaius simply. "She and the King most likely had an argument, and she just wanted someone to support her opposition."

"But there's more," said Merlin. "I saw a page on her table, she'd apparently torn it from some book that she was crying over. It was a drawing and a description of some sort of stone... er– Everstone... yeah, that was it. What was even more peculiar was that an identical golden stone hung from her neck."

The glass beaker fell from Gaius's grip that was now nonexistent. He was frozen and didn't even move when the spilled liquid instantly began to burn a hole upon his wooden tabletop. Merlin hurried forward and tried to pour water on the spill in attempts to lessen its damage. He dabbed the stain and looked up at Gaius with a confused expression.

"Gaius, w–?"

"You are certain, Merlin, certain it was the Everstone?" he breathed. "You could have been mistaken–"

"But I am not mistaken," said Merlin poignantly. "I saw it with my own eyes. The stone around Morgana's neck matched the image on the parchment perfectly. Gaius, what's wrong?"

"Everything," he replied, "everything, Merlin."

Gaius pulled out a chair from his dining table and motioned for Merlin to sit across from him, and the warlock obeyed. He looked over at Gaius, yearning for him to explain what had him so upset.

"You've heard of the Everstone then?"

"Unfortunately, Merlin, I have," he nodded solemnly.

"You're leaving me out in the cold, Gaius," Merlin frowned. "What could a measly necklace do to trouble you so?"

"There are many things that trouble me regarding the necklace," he explained, "not least of which would be that the simple fact that the barer of the necklace cannot remove it if they attain one unique gift."

"Which is...?"

"Magic," said Gaius, closing his eyes in disbelief after saying so, "but, it just cannot be true. Maybe she could remove it but chose not to."

"Why would she bother looking up the source of the unique stone if she could merely remove it?" he asked logically. "And she was visibly upset. Surely you would have had some inkling of her magical abilities, some suspicion over the years."

"And I have I suppose," said Gaius, rubbing his forehead, "but I imagine I've foolishly made excuses for her inexplicable abilities."

"What exactly?"

"It started off innocent enough," he started. "She began having night terrors, the severity of some were indescribable, but every child suffers from nightmares every once in awhile. That's what I reasoned at least."

"She's never grown out of them though, has she?" Merlin insisted.

"And not many children have nightmares that come to pass in reality," Gaius sighed regretfully.

"You mean, y– you're telling me that you think Morgana is a... Seer?"

"I don't _think_ it, Merlin," he sighed. "I _fear_ it."

"A Seer has a form of magic, but it still doesn't make her a sorceress though," said Merlin.

"Uther wouldn't be so logical, and you didn't let me finish," said Gaius. "_Also_ on several occasions during her youth, unbeknownst to Morgana herself, when she would become furious with Uther or get into a row with Arthur she would come to seek my council and... well, when she would become overwhelmed with emotion of rage or fury... her eyes, they would glow in a manner I hadn't seen for over a decade and would not see for a decade more, that is until _you_ arrived in Camelot."

"Then she's like me?" Merlin smiled.

"No one is like you, Merlin," Gaius smirked.

"But she can use magic?" he said hopefully.

"I was beginning to believe that I could have been mistaken, that she merely had a touch of the gift of Sight, as you said," said Gaius. "However, if she bares the Everstone around her neck then there is no doubt that her powers will begin to grow with much haste from now on."

"Is that what the stone does then?" asked Merlin. "It makes your magic evolve quicker?"

"I wish that was all it is capable of," said Gaius, "but the powers of the stone are far greater than that. Thank the gods she is only in possession of one piece."

"One piece?" said Merlin. "You mean there are more."

"Four to be exact, one piece for each of its moral creators," he explained. "It was broken not long after its creation, to prevent those with any ill intentions from wielding its power."

Gaius explained to Merlin exactly what had been written in the book that Morgana had read, leaving the young warlock in state of shock. Morgana, the woman he had instantly formed a bond with, was like him. She had magic, and she had been born with the gift and didn't just seek out the practice like so many before them. He knew exactly how she must feel, alone and frightened of what she is, wondering what she had done to receive such a burden, scared that someone would find out and turn her in. Merlin had never had anyone who could help him understand his magic as a boy. Sure, his mother tried, but she was not born with the power Merlin had been blessed with. It was not until he arrived in Camelot that he could begin to understand that there was a reason he was born with magic, and that magic was not something to fear but to appreciate.

"She must be terrified," said Merlin. "I know exactly what she must be going through. Maybe I could go and talk to her."

"No, Merlin, you can't," Gaius said quickly. "No one can know of you powers, especially not Morgana."

"Why _especially_ not Morgana?" asked Merlin. "She's the closest friend I've made here thus far."

"That's all well and good, but she is still the king's ward," said Gaius. "Magic of any kind would put both of your heads on the chopping block if she were to tell anyone your secret."

"A secret she shares," Merlin objected. "She needs to know she's not alone."

"I've known Morgana for many years, and she will come to terms with this in time as she has done whenever she has faced any other obstacle in her life," said Gaius.

"I've known her for less than a month, and I can say with unyielding confidence that the Lady Morgana has never faced such an obstacle, nor will she again," said Merlin firmly. "I will not abandon her, for if I were to do so then it would be as if I had abandoned a piece of myself."

"You are treading dangerous waters, Merlin," said Gaius.

"Then it's lucky I'm a skilled swimmer," said Merlin wisely, "and I would never leave Morgana to drown."

–

Merlin woke the next morning with a warm sense of calm. He was not alone. He knew someone now who was born with the same power as himself. He wasn't waking to a feeling of uncertainty, a stomach full of butterflies. He woke knowing that he had someone like him, he had a kindred spirit, he had Morgana. With a new spring in his step, he strolled down to the equipment room to retrieve Arthur's armour for his morning match. He'd speak to Morgana when the time was right, he told himself. It didn't have to be today, tomorrow, next week, or even next month, but when the time was right then he'd tell her of his magic.

He hummed a quiet tune to a song he'd only just made up and began collecting the articles needed to properly protect Arthur from his opponents. He was so distracted by his own thoughts that he nearly missed the hissing sound that was coming from behind him. He ceased his happy tune and froze, waiting a minute or two before the noise could be heard again. He cautiously followed the sound, fearing there was a snake in his midst, and oddly enough he had come across a bright yellow shield of an opponent that was decorated in green snake paintings. _How curious_, Merlin thought, kneeling down to admire the unique shield. The sound could be heard again and the source was undeniable, as crazy as it sounded, it was coming from the shield. Merlin nearly toppled over onto his backside when its eye blinked red. Gasping, he bravely extended his fingers to touch the shield, figuring himself to have gone mad from sleep deprivation. A painting could not hiss or blink for that matter. The young warlock had nearly touched the shield when he was brought to an abrupt halt by the blade of the burly guest knight from before, Knight Valiant.

"Can I help you with something, boy?" asked Valiant, refusing to lower his blade from Merlin's neck.

"Er– no," Merlin replied, swallowing hard. "I'm good... I was... I mean, I was just... just gathering the prince's armour."

"Then you best be on your way then," Valiant threatened.

"Right, no problem," said Merlin, tripping over his feet to collect Arthur's things and nearly falling on his face to escape Valiant's suspicious glare.

He was utterly unaware that his encounter with Valiant would bring about more trouble than he could have possibly imagined.

–

Morgana hadn't slept in days. She was consumed with fear of what she had learned, fear for Arthur's safety, and fear for what had yet to pass. She would lay awake all night, too frightened to close her eyes and face the possibility of seeing Arthur lying dead once again, and too frightened to wake up and realize her discovery of magic was anything but a bad dream. She thought it really was silly to remain scared of her own nightmares considering her reality was far worse than anything she could dream up.

Gwen had begun to worry. She had walked in Morgana's room the past couple mornings to see her mistress wide awake and staring, unblinking, at the canopied ceiling. Her eyes had begun sporting dark circles that grew blacker each passing hour. She couldn't eat because she couldn't keep anything down and she had begun becoming clumsy because of her trembling hands. Morgana had finally decided enough was enough and she would just have to start pretending that her inevitable relationship with magic did not exist. She could not have magic if she couldn't use it, that's what she told herself at least.

She had began trying to pull herself out of her fearful existence by finding outlets to occupy her time and attention. She'd read over a dozen books, discovered a new style for her hair, polished every article of jewelery she had ever possessed, and spotlessly cleaned her entire chamber from top to bottom. Gwen entered Morgana's bedroom to find all of her work had already been completed. After spending her morning and afternoon just chatting and drinking warmed mead with Morgana, she finally convinced herself that she was getting paid for work and not play, so against her mistress's request, Gwen departed to see if the kitchen staff could be in need of any assistance.

Morgana wasn't too terribly upset with Gwen's departure after learning that her attendance was requested soon enough for some sort of unscheduled audience that Arthur had managed with his father over something unknown. A sudden hearing before the king was quite rare, and she imagined whatever it was Arthur intended to address must be a serious matter.

A glass vase containing a bouquet of rather beautiful flowers that Arthur had sent to her sat wilted on her nightstand. She was admittedly sad to see such beauty die so soon before her very eyes. They had arguably been the most handsome flowers she had ever received and that was truly saying something after all the extravagant bouquets she'd received in her days. Heaving a heavy sigh, Morgana lifted the dying flowers into her hands to dispose of herself. She frowned as she walked to her window to carelessly toss them away, thinking how much she wished that they were fresh and lively once more.

Just as Morgana's mind uttered the thought, the flowers in her hands began to grow, grow into the gorgeous examples of earth's true nature they had once been. She gasped, releasing the flowers onto the ground again, and as she did so the flowers died once more. Her hands shaking, Morgana knelt down and lifted what had been a particularly attractive red rose from the stone floor and held it in her hand again. It remained as wilted as it had been before. Her lack of sleep must be making her hallucinate, she must have imagined the bouquet's resurrection. However, Morgana was determined to be sure, so she gently placed her fingertips atop the petals of the rose and instructed it to live once more. As she had commanded and to her dismay, the rose bloomed as if the first week of spring. This time, when Morgana pulled her hand away, the flower remained in bloom.

"Morgana?" called a familiar voice from outside her chambers. It was Uther, the last person on earth that she wanted to see.

"One moment, my Lord, I fear I am less than decent," she called back, frantically collecting the fallen flowers and discarding them out her window onto the courtyard below only to be carried away by the winds. The rose, however, remained alone in her glass vase. She was not keen on disposing of something like that. Hurrying to collect herself, Morgana finally managed to answer the king's calls. She flung open the door a bit suspiciously and appeared out of breath to the king's surprise.

"Morgana, is something wrong?" he asked, concern in his voice. "You've been acting rather strange this past week, and I've begun to worry."

"I can assure, sire, that my well-being is something you neednt concern yourself with," she said. "You have many more pressing matters to attend to."

"Nothing is more important to me than the health and safety of you and of Arthur," he insisted, propping up her chin lovingly to meet his eyes. "Never forget that."

She forced a fleeting smile.

"You've come to escort me to the thrown room I wager," she said, changing the subject. "Shall we?"

Uther nodded and offered his arm for Morgana to accept. She looked back at the now reborn rose in her vase, wondering how long its second life would last and wondering how long her first would once Uther found out that not only was a sorceress behind his castle walls but one who had used magic, intentional or not. Uther would see no difference, magic was magic after all.

–

Uther released Morgana's arm so that she could assume her position along the line of a number of other court members, many of whom she had a great disliking for. She was consumed with her fears and thoughts that she'd nearly overlooked Merlin, standing by Arthur's side as if to address the court. She raised a curious brow, wondering what exactly was going on. Uther didn't appear very pleased to have to come before an unscheduled court especially when he was unaware of the nature of the meeting.

"What is this all about, Arthur?" asked Uther, taking his place before his thrown while Arthur stepped forward before his father.

"I believe Knight Valiant is using a magic shield to cheat in the tournament," said Arthur with unwavering confidence.

"Valiant, what do you have to say to this?" asked Uther abruptly, the mere idea of magic in his kingdom causing a sleeping bear to rise from within him.

"My Lord, this is ridiculous, I would never use magic," Valiant snapped, glaring back at Arthur in a way that made Morgana want to poke his eyes out with her bare thumbs. "Does your son have any evidence to support this outrageous accusation?"

"Do you have evidence?" asked Uther, almost wishing it was true so that he could behead another warlock for good measure.

"I do," Arthur nodded, beckoning for Merlin to come forward and hand over whatever evidence he possessed.

Upon closer inspection, the proof Arthur had presented to his father (via Merlin) had been a snake's head and a bizarre looking one at that. Morgana had been born in Eire, lived her childhood in Cornwall, and grown up in Camelot yet had never in all her days seen such a beast. It was enormous, unlike anything she'd ever seen, with bright green scales and a yellow mouth that was as blinding as the color of the morning sun.

"Let me see the shield," said Uther, motioning to see the object at question.

"Be careful, my Lord," said Arthur, drawing his sword.

Morgana raised her eyebrows, watching as Uther carefully brushed his hands over the shield as nothing happened. She realized that this must be about Sir Ewan, knowing that he had been gravely injured by Knight Valiant's mere blow to his head. It odd for a competitor to suffer such a serious injury from something so common in battle. Morgana noticed Gaius enter the room with a stride of desperation, rounding the corner and whispering something dire into Merlin's adorably oversized ear.

"You see, my Lord, there is nothing abnormal about my shield," said Valiant.

"He's not going to let us see the snakes come alive!" Arthur objected.

"Then how am I to know what you say is true?" asked Uther, and Morgana had to admit (begrudgingly, mind you) is was a logical reply.

"I have a witness," said the Prince. "Sir Ewan was bitten by one of the snakes on the shield, his venom made him gravely ill, however, he has received an antidote and will confirm Knight Valiant is using magic."

"Where is this witness?" asked Uther.

"He... should... be... here," said Arthur with an upward inflection, looking back at Merlin and Gaius in furious conversation. Arthur quickly strode back to the pair and joined in to their heated conversation. When Morgana saw Arthur's expression fall, she knew something had gone horribly wrong.

"I'm waiting!" Uther shouted, his patience as short as a candle's wick.

Arthur looked at a loss for words, a loss for anything really. He turned back to the court, catching Morgana's eye and swallowing hard. He wished she could hug him and make all his trouble fade away like she used to when they were children, and she secretly wished he would do the same to her. Gathering a small amount of strength from such a memory, Arthur walked forward to accept whatever fate had brought him.

"I'm afraid the witness is dead," he said quietly, regretfully even.

"So you have no proof to support these allegations?" asked Uther, demoralizing him in front of the entire court. "Have you seen Valiant using magic?"

"No," he admitted solemnly, "but my servant–"

"Your _servant_?" Uther interrupted as if Arthur had just referred to an earthworm as a reliable source. "You make these outrageous allegations against a _knight_ on the word of your _servant_?"

"I believe he is telling the truth," Arthur insisted.

"My Lord, am I really to be judged by some hearsay by a boy–?" asked Valiant.

"It's not hearsay!" Merlin objected boldly, striding forward to speak to the king and instantly regretting it. "I've seen the snakes come alive."

"How dare you interrupt?" said Uther in a voice that usually struck fear down Morgana's spine, though she'd never give him the satisfaction of showing it. "Guards!"

"No," Morgana whispered under her breath as the castle guards approached Merlin and took him by either arm, escorting him to the dungeons no doubt. "Arthur, do something."

An objected to Merlin's imprisonment came from the most unlikely of sources: Knight Valiant.

"Wait," he began. "I'm sure he was merely mistaken. I wouldn't want him punished on my account."

"You see, this is how a true knight behaves," said Uther, making Arthur feel about an inch tall, "with gallantry and honor."

"My Lord, if your son made these accusations because he is afraid to fight me then I will graciously accept his withdraw," said Valiant, looking upon Morgana as if to claim his prize. She narrowed her gaze upon him before rolling her eyes in disgust, the same look of disgust that currently occupied Arthur's expression.

"Is this true?" asked Uther, looking down upon his son as if he was still a small child. "Do you wish to withdraw from the tournament?"

"No!" Arthur replied as if Uther had just declared the sky green.

"Then what am I to make of these allegations?" asked Uther.

"Obviously there has been a misunderstanding," said Arthur begrudgingly. "I withdraw the allegations against Knight Valiant. Please accept my apology."

"Accepted," said Valiant as if he was bestowing some great honor upon the prince who couldn't bring himself to look his father or Knight Valiant in the eye.

Arthur lowered his head into a bow and turned to leave as quickly as he properly could, desiring to be anywhere that his father's disappointed gaze did not await him. He brushed by Merlin, who looked almost ill from the entire ordeal. Morgana bowed respectfully to the king before rushing out the open corridor after him. He'd nearly reached his chambers when Morgana caught up with the disgruntled prince. He had all but ran along the long halls to reach his room, and Morgana found herself out of breath from her failed attempts to match his strides.

"Arthur?" she called after him, lifting her skirts as she ran. "Arthur, for pity's sake, will you stop for a moment?"

"I don't want to hear it, Morgana," he frowned, ceasing his strides but unwilling and unable to turn to face her. He was so ashamed that he couldn't bring himself to face anyone. "I've already suffered enough ridicule for one day."

Morgana stopped and smirked at her friend before following him into his chambers, having to reopen the door he had slammed shut in her face.

"Come now, Arthur," she smiled. "I think the amount of ridicule you deserve is nearly infinite."

"Get out, I want to be alone," he ordered, half-sitting upon his table, crossing his arms and looking out onto the courtyard from the opposing window.

"People who say that never really mean it," she said in a much more understanding tone. She slowly strode forward, gently scooting him over so that she could sit beside him on the table's edge. She didn't think he would budge at first, but he eventually conceded and reluctantly moved over to make room for her slender frame. He still refused to look over at her, keeping his arms as crossed as his disposition. After a couple moments of silence, Arthur spoke first as Morgana had hoped and expected he would.

"I'm humiliated, and in front of the entire royal court," he frowned, shaking his head from side to side. "You saw the look on my Father's face. He's disgusted with me, and I can hardly blame him."

"Your father is in a constant state of disappointment," she said, trying to lighten the mood. "I can't remember the last time he wasn't disappointed in something or someone."

"It's not just him," he sighed. "The entire court–"

"Since when have you ever cared what those wretched backstabbing royal bum kissers think of you?" she scoffed. "They've been trying to sabotage the both of us before Uther for their own personal gain since as long as I can remember. They are nothing but power hungry serpents."

"Father doesn't see them that way," said Arthur.

"Of course not because it's his behind their kissing," she said simply.

"I know you're trying to cheer me up, but it's not working," he frowned.

"Who said I was trying to cheer you up?" she teased and for a moment she swore she saw a faint smile. "I'm just trying to lighten the wrath that you undoubtedly intend to wreak upon poor Merlin."

Arthur's stature visibly stiffened at the mention of his servant's name, the source of his humiliation. Morgana felt the muscles in his arms seize up against the outside of her own upper arm.

"Do you believe him?" she asked boldly.

"Nothing adds up–"

"I didn't ask you whether or not the allegations made sense to you," she interrupted gently. "I asked you whether or not you believe your servant's word."

"He won't my servant for much longer," said Arthur, ignoring the true inquiry.

"What do mean by that?" she asked, turning to him and meeting his gaze for the first time. She knew exactly what she meant after looking into his eyes. She shook her head vigorously as he turned away again. "Arthur, no, you can't do that–"

"Sire?" called Merlin, carefully entering through the open door. He spotted Morgana first, uncomfortable to find she and the prince in such close proximity and in private no less. He kept his arms tight behind his back, his heart racing with nerves.

"You have some nerve showing your face after what you've done," said Arthur, refusing Merlin the honor of eye contact. Morgana turned from Arthur to Merlin, sending him a sympathetic look. He nodded respectfully to her, wishing she was not witness to his embarrassing affair.

"Sire, I assure you I only–"

"I believed you, trusted you, and you made me look like a complete fool," said Arthur viciously.

"Things didn't go exactly to plan," said Merlin sheepishly.

"Didn't go exactly to plan?" he roared, pushing himself off the table's ledge to plant himself dangerously close to Merlin. "My Father and the ENTIRE royal court think I'm a coward! YOU HUMILIATED ME!"

"I can still expose Valiant," said Merlin, his determination unwavering.

"I no longer require your services," said Arthur indifferently.

"Arthur–" Morgana started.

"You're sacking me?"

"I need a servant I can trust," he snapped.

"You can trust me!"

"And look where it's gotten me!" Arthur shouted, turning back towards the window again. "Now get out of my sight!"

Merlin looked utterly broken, his jaw rigid with words unsaid. He caught Morgana's stunned expression before darting out of Arthur's chambers without another word. Morgana sent Arthur a glare that challenged the level of disappointment that his own father had just sported and headed swiftly for the door.

"Where are you going?" Arthur spat.

"To help Merlin," she said fiercely.

"And why would you do that?"

"Because, unlike you, I have faith in him," said Morgana, looking back at the prince one last time before departing after his freshly sacked servant.

–

It wasn't until Merlin had reached the center of the courtyard, looking completely distraught, that he realized someone had been following him. It was Morgana, to his complete and utter surprise, looking flustered and anxious as she lifted her skirts down the stone staircase leading down from the castle. He almost doubted that she was chasing after him, wondering why she would seek out the likes of a now unemployed servant, a _lying_ one at that.

"Milady?" he said, a bit shakily as she rushed up towards him. "What–?"

"What you said, about Valiant, it was the truth," said Morgana. "Wasn't it?"

Merlin gave her a very appraising look. Was she condescending him? A proper lady of the court would never seek out a mere servant in such a manner. He was so speechless at the sight of her before him, looking overwhelmed in every aspect of her life but no less beautiful in her deep violet gown, that he truly didn't know what to say at first.

"Yes," was all he managed to choke out for a moment before speaking again. "I saw him using magic with my own eyes. He's using an enchanted shield that allows the decorative snakes to come to life and strike its victims. I would not lie about such things. I give you my word."

"I believe you," she said, no doubt in her voice. Those were the only three words that could make Merlin feel the slightest bit better, and he only wished they had been spoken by Prince Arthur prior to Morgana.

"You do?" he breathed.

"Yes," she said as if he should have already known. "Now what can I do to help?"

She didn't know why she believed the world of Merlin over a knight, but there was something about the young servant that made her trust him. She had no reason to do so besides a feeling, a bond she instantly felt with him the first day she'd set eyes on him in the very spot they stood at that exact moment. All Morgana knew for certain was that she trusted Merlin, with everything.

"I wish there was some way you could," said Merlin genuinely, "but I fear there is nothing anyone can do."

"You can't mean that," she objected. "You have to show everyone you were right, because – well, Merlin, if you don't then – well then, Arthur will surely die."

"It looks like the only way to prove I am in the right is if Valiant does just that," Merlin frowned.

A revelation suddenly stuck Morgana like a ton of bricks. If she and Merlin couldn't charm the snakes from the shield then she would just have to charm the knight wielding it instead.

"Merlin," she smiled to herself. "I think I have an idea."

–

_**A/N:**__ Thanks to everyone who has so kindly reviewed. I appreciate it more than you know, really I do. I hope you all have a wonderful New Year and got loads of midnight kisses. Here is one from me, Merlin fans – MOI – ! Help me reach 85 reviews, and I'll update quicker=)_

_**Coming Soon:**__ Morgana doesn't need magic when she already has been blessed with the power of seduction, Merlin speaks with the Great Dragon and questions his prior decision to tell Morgana of his magic, Merlin tries to seek the use of magic to expose Valiant, and Morgana gives Merlin insight into Prince Arthur's character that leads him to believe she is the worthiest queen in all the land (and he can hardly bare the thought)._

–

_**Review.**_


	6. Chapter 6: For Honor, For Camelot

_**Chapter Six**_

_For Honor, For Camelot_

–

_Before you begin on the journey of revenge,  
dig two graves._

–

"It's too dangerous, Morgana," said Merlin firmly, pausing from his incessant pacing as Morgana stared on at him from behind her desk, growing annoyed. "We don't know how Valiant would react, and you could get hurt."

"Unless you have any other ideas how to expose Valiant then there is no other way," she retorted.

Merlin sighed, looking at Morgana with an exasperated expression before pacing back and forth again. She had hatched a plan that entailed her seducing Knight Valiant, tricking him into exposing his magic just as the guards and Arthur showed up to see it all with their own eyes. It wasn't the strongest strategy in the world, but they had no other options, no other ideas. Merlin would run up to Arthur's chambers and somehow manage to draw him and his men to Morgana's chambers (even if he had to get Arthur to chase him with a sword) that evening so that Morgana's efforts wouldn't be for nothing. She would send a message to him to meet her just after his practice spar that evening so that he would still be in possession of his shield. She didn't want to seduce Valiant, quite the opposite, the man made her skin crawl. However, there was no denying he was visibly attracted to her, and he was out to claim any and everything Arthur cherished and the top of that list was indeed Morgana.

"Morgana, it's farfetched," he went on, speaking wildly with his hands. "There is no guarantee that I can draw Arthur to your chambers. What if you're stuck alone with him?"

"I can take care of myself, Merlin," she insisted.

"I know," he said quickly, "but that doesn't make me any less ill at ease. Couldn't you just speak to Arthur, talk him out of fighting Valiant?"

"I could never do that," she said, shaking her head as if Merlin had just asked her to shave all her hair off.

"He might listen to you though," said Merlin desperately. "You and Arthur– he trusts to you."

"It's not that," she said sharply. "If we can't prove that Valiant is guilty then Arthur should fight him."

"What?" Merlin breathed, aghast and frozen before her. "Why on earth would you say that? He'd be risking his life to prove Valiant is using magic."

Morgana gently placed her hands on her desk tabletop and pushed herself to her feet. She slowly strode to her window, her back to Merlin as she looked down onto the practice field. Arthur was wailing on a wooden practice dummy with his sword. She wondered for a moment whether he was picturing Valiant or Merlin underneath the old rusted armor. She absentmindedly twirled her necklace between her fingers before finally responding to the young warlock without tearing her eyes away from the field.

"Arthur does not fight for his own life," she said quietly. "He does not fight for vanity, for glory or -in this instance- for the self-gratification of proving his father wrong."

"Then what does he fight for exactly?" asked Merlin in a sardonic tone.

"He fights for honor, and he fights for Camelot," she said swiftly. "It is his duty."

"In some stupid tournament?" he scoffed. "Surely you cannot think that when he goes and spars against a dozen or so equally narcissistic and blood thirsty knights that Camelot even crosses that big-head of his. He's out to revel in the prestige of becoming Champion and flaunting you on his arm."

"Arthur is not like them," she hissed, jerking her head to look at him for the first time, "and don't ever think he is. He may be a pompous clotpole at times, but when he steps onto that pitch before the people of Camelot it is them that he is fighting for. Arthur represents the future, better days, and he knows this. He knows that his own image is not just of himself but of the entire kingdom, and he knows that he must honor the crown that has been bestowed upon him. If he were to appear weak to his people then I fear Camelot would be in grave danger."

Morgana regretted snapping at her new friend as soon as she ceased her speech. Merlin swallowed hard and awkwardly ran his fingers through his hair. She sighed and continued.

"I've known Arthur all my life, and I know him better than anyone," she said, smirking to herself as she returned her gaze onto the prince out the window again. "As much as it pains me to admit it – and believe me it does – he will make a great king someday, much better than his father. So it is not pomposity or grandeur that drives Arthur to fight Valiant tomorrow, it is for honor, for Camelot."

"You believe Camelot would be better off with an honorable dead prince than a living coward of one," said Merlin, grasping Morgana's gaze one final time.

"We won't let it come to that," said Morgana, slowly walking before Merlin. "We will expose Valiant, and Arthur won't have to fight to reclaim his dignity. Don't worry, just get Arthur and the guards to my chambers at precisely the stroke of seven this evening, and you'll see that all your fretting was for nothing."

"I hope you're right," he frowned. "Arthur's life is in the balance."

Morgana placed a reassuring hand on Merlin's elbow and looked up into his piecing blue eyes. When she did, her necklace began to glow again, just as it had the last time she and Merlin had touched. It glowed with such ferocity that Merlin could even see the illuminated gold orb from beneath her maroon gown. A comforting warm sensation seeped through Morgana's veins, seemingly softening her very heart. Why was this happening? She had made physical contact with many people since she had worn the Everstone and none of them had even shown a hint of a flicker of light. Merlin's eyes remained glued onto the glowing stone, forcing him into a stunned silence. Morgana tried to recall every syllable within the explanation the ancient book delivered her, and then the only probable answer struck her like a ton of bricks.

_Though many of the Everstone's powers remain a mystery, it has been rumored that each piece grants the possessor the ability to heal mortal wounds and illness (though pay a price in return), __**detect other sorcerers in their midst**__..._

Morgana suddenly jerked her hand away from Merlin's elbow, backing away with ungraceful haste. She gripped the Everstone with one hand and her mouth with the other. She tried to conceal a gasp but failed miserably. Merlin looked bewildered, as if he had just been released from a state of hypnosis. It couldn't be true. There had to be some mistake, some logical explanation other than Merlin being a magical being. He would have told her – wait, why would he have told her? He barely knew her – well, she wouldn't go as far as saying that, but they were both still getting to know each other. She was still the king's ward regardless, and those with magic were as good as dead in Camelot. Of course Merlin wouldn't have told her. What if he didn't know himself? Morgana had just began to develop her powers herself, and it was possible that Merlin could be like her. Though Morgana didn't know the level of competency Merlin had with magic, she did know one thing – she was no longer alone, at least she hoped not.

"Milady, is everything alright?" asked Merlin gently, choosing to pretend that he didn't just witness a brief glimpse of the Everstone to not startle her further.

"Er– yes – fine," she stammered, abruptly forcing her hands to inexplicably straighten her skirts, "but you really must be going so I can prepare for this evening."

"Y– Yes, I suppose that's–"

"Lovely, cheers then," she said erratically, all but shoving him out the door.

Merlin sent her a very confused stare before departing through her heavy wooden door. Morgana locked the door behind him, and pressed her back against it. Morgana stood frozen for a long time, wondering whether she wanted Merlin to be a sorcerer or not. Yes, she would have a kindred spirit and a confidant, but she also wouldn't wish the threat of being revealed as a sorcerer before the king onto her worst enemy.

–

The Great Dragon was no help. All he did was spout off a load of rubbish riddles about destiny that did nothing but make the young warlock more frustrated than before. Morgana was about to put herself in a sticky situation to save Arthur's life (and reputation for that matter), and he had no idea what was going to happen. He sat upon the castle steps, judging the sun's light for time. In a few short hours he would have to trick Arthur into Morgana's chambers without a guarantee of success. If he could only find another way. He didn't even notice that Gwen had sat down beside him until she spoke.

"Is it true about what you said about Valiant using magic?" she asked tentatively.

Merlin merely nodded.

"What are you going to do?" she asked dumbly.

"Why does everyone think it's down to me to do something about it?" he smirked.

"Because it is," she said indignantly. "Isn't it? You have to show everyone that they were right and they were wrong."

"And how do I do that?" he said quietly.

"I don't know," she sighed.

"Gwen, all I've done is destroy Arthur's reputation, get myself sacked and now I've put Morgana's life in danger–"

"Morgana?" Gwen interrupted. "What does she have to do with this?"

"It's a long story, but I'd never let anything happen to her," he promised. "Don't worry."

Gwen didn't know what else to say. She didn't like the idea of Merlin and Morgana scheming without her knowledge. She rather enjoyed Merlin's company more than he knew, and Morgana already attracted noblemen like flies to honey. It just wasn't fair that she'd began doing the same to those of lesser status, the men that would never be allowed to be with her even if she wanted them to. Merlin wasn't the slightest in tune with Gwen's differing worries because something had suddenly caught his eye – a statue of a dog holding a shield.

"That's it," he smiled, getting to his feet to examine the statue further.

"Where are you going?"

Merlin ignored her question and began furiously trying to lift the large stone carving by hand to no avail. Gwen rose to her feet and stood curiously behind him. Merlin knew that if he could manage to bring this stone creature to life then he could surely force the snakes in Valiant's shield to reveal themselves. If he could use his magic to enchant the statue then Morgana wouldn't have to enchant Valiant without hers.

"Do you have a wheelbarrow?" asked Merlin with a sly grin that caused Gwen to blush against her will.

–

Gaius nearly dropped his potion when Merlin burst into his chambers wheeling a statue carves like a vicious dog.

"What on earth are you doing?" he asked.

"I have to let everyone see the snakes," said Merlin, rather out of breath from wheeling the heavy statue all about the castle, up and down stairs and every which way.

It appeared as though Gaius instantly understood what Merlin was up, for he turned back to his brewing with a smile and without another word. Merlin drug the statue into his room and closed the door behind him before he pulled up a familiar loosened floorboard and removed his book of spells that Gaius had so generously given him to practice with. Placing the book open on his bed, he scanned the pages for the perfect spell. He grinned like a Cheshire cat when he spotted it, drawing an invisible line under the proper spell. He opened his palm and stared at the statue with great determination.

"_Barbae dorsanthae areesan quickum_," said Merlin.

Nothing happened. He tried again, and again, and again, and again. Nothing. Time was running out. He needed to get the spell to work and fast.

–

_Valiant wielded his mighty sword as Arthur lay wounded and unconscious upon the cold, lonely earth. All Morgana could do was stare on with an expression of terror and helplessness. There was an odd sort of silent gasp in the air as Valiant lifted his sword high above his head and thrust it with one fierce thrust through Arthur's broad chest. The Prince was dead._

Morgana shot up from her bed, sweating and breathless as she was the last time she experienced the same nightmare. A knock had woken her, swift and concise against her door. She looked out her window and saw the sun beginning to set. She couldn't remember falling asleep, and she couldn't imagine being able to fall asleep when she had so much on her mind. She quickly took to her feet and darted before the mirror to check her appearance one final time. Her stomach ached with nerves, but after her nightmare repeated itself, Morgana knew that she had try anything to prevent her dream from coming true. She slowly strode to her door after her intruder had knocked once again. Heaving a heavy breath, Morgana placed her hand on the handle and pulled open the door.

–

Merlin must have tried the spell a thousand different times from a thousand different places in a thousand different voice and – nothing. He had to force Arthur into Morgana's chambers in less than an hour, and he had nothing. Against Morgana's advice, Merlin decided that he would try to talk Arthur into forfeiting the fight, because it wasn't just Arthur's destiny he was defending, it was his own as well. He was desperate to prevent Arthur's downfall, and he had to do something, anything.

He found Arthur standing in a daze before his fireplace, admiring the dancing flames. He looked a loss for words, for anything really. He didn't have to look over to see who had entered his chamber. He knew it would be one of two people – Merlin or Morgana, and when the familiar whiff of lavender with a hint of honey didn't fill his nostrils, he instantly recognized the scent of servitude.

"I thought I told you to get out of my sight," Arthur muttered.

"Don't fight Valiant tomorrow," said Merlin, unfazed. "He'll use the shield against you."

"I know," he said, and for a moment Merlin thought he was speaking to Morgana again.

"Then withdraw," said Merlin defensively. "You have to withdraw."

"Don't you understand?" Arthur snapped, jerking his neck to face him for the first time. "I can't withdraw. The people expect their prince to fight, and how can I lead men into battle if I withdraw?"

"Valiant will kill you," said Merlin fiercely. "If you fight you die."

"Then I die," he said poignantly.

"How can you go out there and fight like that?"

"Because I have to," he said as if he was declaring the sky blue, "because it's my duty."

"Morgana was right," Merlin muttered, and Arthur's interest perked up. His brows furrowed with curiosity, slowly turning his head to the side to give Merlin a sort of appraising look.

"What did you say?" he breathed.

Before Merlin could elaborate, a knock on the door behind him interrupted their conversation. It was the tall stature of Sir Leon followed by Sir Pellinor. They sent Merlin a formidable glare, but chose to ignore his presence over all. Arthur straightened posture, trying to appear prince-like despite the afternoon's events. He tore his gaze from Merlin and focused onto his two knights.

"Our apologies for interrupting, sire–"

"You weren't interrupting, go on," said Arthur for good measure. "What is it?"

"The King wishes to speak to you about an urgent matter in his chambers," said Sir Leon. "He sent us to retrieve you."

"Of course," said Arthur astutely. "Let's go then."

"Wait!" Merlin interjected as Arthur carelessly brushed by him. It was nearly seven, and he couldn't allow Arthur to leave.

"What is it now, Merlin? asked Arthur in an annoyed tone.

"Er– I– I mean, _the Lady Morgana_ asked me to send for you," said Merlin. "She wishes to speak with you in her chambers immediately."

"Morgana can wait," he said shamelessly. "I'm certain whatever it is she wants with me is not more important than what my father needs. I won't be long."

"But–"

"That will be all, Merlin," said Arthur as the two knight departed out the door before him.

"But Knight Valiant is in her chambers," said Merlin quickly out of sheer desperation.

Arthur froze, his fists clinched into involuntary fists. His back was to Merlin but the young warlock did not need to see the prince's face to know exactly what his facial expression was. He was livid, no doubt about it.

"And why is that?" asked Arthur in a slow droll without turning to face his ex-servant, venom dripping from every syllable.

"Er– because she was trying to seduce him into exposing the snakes in his shield," said Merlin with an upward inflection.

"Damn her," Arthur cursed under his breath.

He gripped his sword holster and stomping off towards Morgana's tower. Merlin heaved a heavy sigh, darting off in the same direction as Arthur. The knights shouted after the prince, but he waved them off and muttered something about not being long. Halfway to Morgana's chambers, Arthur broke into a sprint which caught Merlin off guard and perhaps the prince himself. It wasn't long before the two men reached the bedroom of the king's ward and the heard the muffled blood curdling screams from within.

–

_Moments Earlier..._

"Sir Valiant," Morgana squeaked as if she was completely surprised he had come to see her though it was she who had sent for him.

"My Lady," he bowed, a sickening grin across his devious face.

"Come in, come in," she said in a bashful sort of way.

Morgana backed away from the doorway to beckon him inside. She looked him up and down. He'd changed from his armor and apparently bathed. He was not covered in grime or sweat from his sparing practice, but wearing his best robes. He must have cut his practice early to prepare himself to see her, and to her great dismay his shield was nowhere in sight. Her faux smile fell instantly and all she could focus on now was how to get rid of him. He was no use to her now, and she was frantic to force him from her chambers to plot her next move to prevent Arthur's grave fate.

"I must admit, milady, that I was all but surprised when I was beckoned to your chambers to share a glass of wine," said Valiant arrogantly, sitting down on her desk chair and making himself at home without Morgana's welcome.

"Weren't you?" she said in a much higher tone than she was accustomed to hearing from herself.

"Not at all," he smirked. "I saw you watching me, and I could tell you were just playing opossum with me at the reception."

Morgana gritted her teeth and fought the urge to verbally reprimand him.

"Ah, it appears you must know me better than I know myself," she said reluctantly.

"I'd like to," he smiled, raising his eyebrows implicitly.

"You are too bold, sir," said Morgana in a slightly lighthearted manner, though not too much so.

"You must recall it was not I who invited you to my chambers, milady," said Valiant, extending his hand and grabbing onto hers. He yanked her forward to force her onto his lap. Morgana immediately struggled to stand up once again, but Valiant kept her in his clutches, holding her down.

"Unhand me," she hissed.

"Come now," he teased wickedly. "I thought this is what you wanted when you asked me to see you in your chambers."

"There has been an mix-up," said Morgana. "I meant to send for Arthur."

"The Prince?" Valiant snorted with the utmost distaste on his tongue. "You must be joking."

"I am not," she snapped, feeling Valiant's grip tighten around her wrists.

"That spoiled royal brat and his idiot stool pigeon made fools of themselves in front of the entire court, and you still have the desire to–"

"Well, that spoiled royal brat and his idiot stool pigeon have more dignity in the tips of their fingers than you have in your entire body," she seethed. "They could have only made fools of themselves if they were lying."

"And you think they were speaking the truth, do you?" Valiant smirked.

"I do not _think_," she spat. "I _know_."

"Ah, now I see," said Valiant, smiling as if he'd just had a revelation. "You wanted to try and protect your sweetheart, eh? You wanted to try to seduce me, trick me into exposing my shield's power? What a naïve, stupid child you are to think something so foolish would work on someone like me."

"_Someone like you_?" Morgana scoffed. "And who are you exactly, a renegade knight? I have scraped the remnants of horses' dung from the soles of my boots with more caliber than the likes of you, as well as better looks and smell for that matter. Now, for the last time, release me!"

"No one insults my honor," he growled, "not event the king's little charity case."

"Honor must first exist in order to be insulted," said Morgana.

Suddenly, Valiant shot up, taking Morgana with him. He forced her towards her large fourposter bed and threw her with great force upon it. She was so stunned by how fast he had moved that she barely had time to react. She gripped her soft comforter, trying to pull herself backwards onto the floor. However, Valiant yanked her back towards him by her slender waist.

"What in pity's sake are you going?" she gasped, fighting him off of her.

"Teaching you a lesson about honor," he grunted, "by taking yours."

Valiant propped himself up to straddle the king's ward, his weigh nearly suffocating her. She pressed the heels of her palms against his chest to shove him away to no avail. He was like a wild animal, hunting his prey. When he tried reaching behind to lift her skirts, Morgana began to scream. Valiant clasped his bear-like paw around her mouth to muffle her cries for help as he continued. Morgana used her hands to grab onto Valiant's face, trying to push him every which way away from her and claw him at the same time. She damned her short fingernails, but did not give up trying to scratch his eyes out nonetheless. For a quick second she managed to sink her teeth into his plump fingers, but soon regretted such a rash decision as the same hand she had just bitten returned with a vicious blow to her cheek. Angry tears streamed down her face as he reached up and tore at the front corset of her dress. She was so furious and not just at Valiant. She was disgusted with herself for allowing herself to become to vulnerable, so exposed. Never in her life had she felt so naked, nor would she ever again.

"Morgana?" called a distant yet familiar voice. "MORGANA!"

A chill shot through the spines of both Arthur and Merlin as they listened to Morgana's terrifying screams. The prince pounded on the door to no avail and soon began trying to kick it open. Merlin's heart was racing, whilst Arthur was caught up the the moment, Merlin's eyes glowed gold and the lock clicked open. Arthur flung in inelegantly, wielding his sword, and Merlin right behind him. Valiant had apparently looked up when the abrupt sound from their intruders rung in his ears, allowing Morgana to take advantage of his moment of weakness. She jerked her head to the side and slid her body to an angle to reach his sword, slipping it from his holster. She then pointed it at his chest and forced him to climb off of her as she clambered to escape towards the door just as it burst open.

The front of Morgana's new violet gown was ruined, torn down the front to expose her white slip. She tried to hold it closed together with her elbow as she balanced pointing Valiant's sword at its owner with one hand and cradled her aching jaw with the other. Valiant held his hands in the air in some sort of playfully sardonic manner that made the skin of all three of the others crawl. Merlin instantly ripped off his jacket and held it so Morgana could slide her arms into it, downing her small frame into the faded leather fabric. At the sight of Arthur's additional sword, Morgana took a couple additional steps behind her and threw Valiant's sword into the hall to disarm him further. Just as Merlin was about to affectionately check to the condition of the king's ward, Arthur confidently swung his free arm around Morgana's upper body and pulled her against him while still pointing his weapon at the perverted knight.

"Calm down there, prince," said Valiant, smiling wickedly.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't run you through," said Arthur in such a callous manner that it made Merlin's heart freeze in his chest for just a moment.

"I can give you two," he smirked in reply. "You wouldn't want to add murderer to your list of offenses – after liar and coward of course, and I'm sure the lady Morgana wouldn't want to add whore to hers and–"

Arthur released Morgana and strode forward, the tip of his blade to close to slitting Valiant's throat that a small bead of blood dripped slowly from his neck. Morgana appeared to have made strides to go up and slug the rogue knight herself, but Merlin had grabbed her hand and pulled her back with some difficulty. He would have held onto her a bit longer, but Morgana made a quick and uncomfortable glance down at her chest for an unknown reason and abruptly freed herself from Merlin's touch before he could try to comfort her more so.

"Your crimes deserve no less than death," Arthur seethed. "I shall inform–"

"Who exactly?" Valiant laughed in airily. "Everyone on the entire royal court thinks you to be just as I said – a liar and a coward – including your own father. And what makes you believe that the Lady Morgana's testimony would do you any good? It can be plainly seen that she would do anything to protect you, so that obviously includes telling a lie or two for good measure. I'm sure after all these years the king and the court knows that even better than I."

Morgana frowned, looking down at her feet. Arthur swallowed uneasily and took a very reluctant step backwards after several moments of silence.

"The court won't be fighting tomorrow," said Arthur coldly. "My father will not be the one wielding my sword. It will just be you and I before all of Camelot, and you will be forced to pay for your sins on a much grander stage."

"You will pay with your life," Valiant teased, "and even if I had an enchanted shield – I would not need it to end you."

Valiant made certain to nudge Arthur harshly with his shoulder as he strode by the flaxen-haired noble. He paused as he reached Merlin and Morgana.

"See you at the feast, milady," the knight smirked, winking at her.

Though Valiant was easily twice Merlin's size, the warlock still held his ground and took a step forward before Morgana's small stature. However, Morgana didn't need protecting seeing as she took an unabashed step forward and swiftly stomped her foot as hard as she could on Valiant's massive toes. As he lifted his foot up to groan in pain, she took that moment to just as effectively slug the knight square in his lower abdomen with all her might. She knew she'd knocked all the wind out of him because she heard it escape his lungs as soon as her fist struck his gut. He was hunched over in pain and Morgana, Merlin and Arthur were all wallowing in his agony.

"I'd sooner be escorted by horse dung," she said, referring to her prior sentiments.

Merlin was positive that Valiant would have retorted with a crude reply if he wasn't so winded and contorted in sheer pain. Just as the knight turned the corner to leave there was a loud clanging to signal he had fallen into some sort of large object and hurt himself more so. It was lucky that Merlin had turned his head to the side or Arthur and Morgana would have surely seen his eyes glow gold.

"Are you alright?" asked Merlin, looking Morgana up and down as Arthur hurried to her side as well.

"Just embarrassed, I'm so sorry," she apologized. "I was such an idiot, thinking I could help. All I did was make matters worse."

Arthur ignored her words and gently tilted her head to the side by holding her chin with his thumb and index finger. A bruise was already beginning to form where he had struck her. Arthur pulled his hand away and grimaced in disgust. He's kill Valiant, he really would.

"It was an impressive right hook," Arthur smiled.

"Well, I knew it was effective from experience," she grinned slightly. "I've used it on you more than once, and it seems to work out in my favor rather nicely."

–

_**A/N: **__Sorry, it took me forever to update everyone! I had to rewrite this chapter 3 times, and it still came out rubbish. I was going to have this big Merlin/Morgana finding out about each other's magic scene that was all dramatic etc, but I decided against it last minute. It's too soon, so I'm waiting a few chapters more. Though Morgana has a decent suspicion already, and Merlin is nearly 100% Morgana has magic besides the gift of Sight so yeah... Anyways, review && I'll update faster & I won't sick an angry serket on you! Also, sorry if Morgana came off all Mary Sue-ish in this chapter. It won't happen again, but I need to show some weakness and ignorance in the characters before I build them up to who they really become._

_**PS:**__ THANKS SO MUCH FOR ALL OF YOUR WONDERFUL AND GENUINE REVIEWS! I ADORE YOU ALL && THANKS FOR HELPING ME REACH 100=)_

–

_**Review.**_


	7. Chapter 7: His Lady, Her Champion

_**Chapter Seven**_

_His Lady, Her Champion_

–

_The only way to make a man trustworthy  
is to trust him._

–

"I'm sorry," said Morgana sheepishly, "you know, again."

"Oh, shut up," said Arthur, refusing to chance a glance at her as she adjusted her new pale nightgown that Valiant _hadn't_ had the opportunity to destroy.

Morgana had discarded the torn dress and poured her aching body into a favored nightgown that Uther had given her for her most recent birthday. Arthur shooed Merlin into the hall and waited most uneasily outside her changing screen. He'd refused to let her alone after such an ordeal. Morgana protested his request at first, but she soon conceded due to her previous debacle and felt she owed Arthur an incident without argument for once.

"It's just that I'm _so _sorry–" she began feverishly, returning from behind the screen and peering up at the prince with doe eyes.

"Morgana," Arthur began slowly, emphasizing each syllable of her name in a way that would usually drive her mad if he'd said it on any other day. "I heard you the first dozen times you've apologized, so you can stop groveling now. It's getting a bit pathetic. I know you were only trying to help even if it was stupid and naïve and every other synonym that goes along with moronic. You care about me, and I adore you for it. I just need you to know that if you're looking to protect me then never place yourself in danger again... because... well, you know what I'd give up to keep you from harm."

"The very same price I would pay to protect you," said Morgana in a solemn voice.

Arthur swallowed hard, unable to formulate a reply. Morgana knew that Arthur understood what she meant. She was implying that they would give each of their lives to protect the other, they always had and they always would.

"Er– sorry to interrupt but–"

"Merlin, do you mind?" Arthur sneered.

"It's not me, it them," said Merlin, motioning towards Sir Leon and Sir Pellinor behind him.

"Oh," said Arthur, clearing his throat and stiffening his posture. Morgana blushed and cleared her throat, suddenly becoming fascinated with the stone ground. "Yes?"

"Sire, the King is most anxious to speak with you," said Sir Leon on a voice that led Arthur to believe that his best knight may have just been on the receiving end of an Uther tantrum. "He's grown tired of awaiting your presence and has thus moved into your chambers. He wished for us to inform you that a response from King Urien has been received."

"It seems to be of the utmost importance, sire," added Sir Pellinor sheepishly, confirming Arthur's previous thought.

"Of course," said the prince, "I'll just be a moment more. I will meet you outside my chambers."

The guards closed the door behind themselves and a very uneasy-looking Merlin to give the two royals a minute more of privacy. Arthur's stature noticeably relaxed as soon as he heard the latch click.

"What is that all about?" asked Morgana. "Is he looking to shout at you again?"

"No," said Arthur quietly, "not just that at least."

"Then what could he possibly want with you at this hour?" she went on.

"It's none of your concern, Morgana," he replied.

Morgana had no intention of being left out of the loop of important affairs concerning Camelot. She was the king's ward and a citizen of Camelot and deserving of the same knowledge as Uther and Arthur for that matter. There was so many secrets, so many unanswered questions in her life recently that she couldn't stand the idea of ending up with another number of enigmas to uncover. She wore her biggest enigma around her bloody neck for pity's sake.

"You know that I have my means of finding out whatever information I desire," she said. "I might as well hear it from the source."

Arthur rolled his eyes at her. He knew she was right. When Morgana wanted to get her claws on desired information then she would have no trouble doing so. Half the time, Morgana knew news before Arthur even heard it from Uther himself. It was bizarre, really. The prince sighed heavily and walked to the entrance, locking the latch for good measure before returning before the raven-haired beauty.

"There has been some suspicious activity in Kent," said Arthur.

"Hengist and Horsa's kingdom?"

"The very same," Arthur nodded. "They've been sending out small numbers of guards across the lands recently. It appears as if they are in search of something."

"What?"

"We don't know," said Arthur, "but whatever they're looking for cannot be good."

Morgana's stomach lurched. Hengist and Horsa were two of the most infamously cruel tyrants on earth. They'd killed thousands of their own people, making Uther's magical purge seem like child's play. They were brothers, splitting the Kingdom of Kent down the middle to equally rule their birthright. Morgana remembered tales of the two tyrants from her father during her youth. He told her terrible stories of the kings, sending chills down her spine. She'd heard little from Kent since she moved from Cornwall to Camelot, but she did know Uther and the Hengist and Horsa were on far from agreeable terms.

"But if you don't know what they are searching for then you cannot deny the possibility that it could be nothing," she replied. "A few random search parties cannot be cause for concern even for someone as clinically paranoid as your father."

"You know Hengist and Horsa's history," said Arthur fiercely, ignoring her snide comment about Uther. "They have never been involved with anything that wasn't of Camelot's concern. They are two of the most barbaric kings in the lands. For pity's sake, Morgana, they've killed their own people, _innocent_ people and–"

"As has your father," said Morgana swiftly.

"I said _innocent_ people," said Arthur.

"I heard you," she said poignantly, "and I do not retract my statement."

"I'm in no mood–" Arthur started, heading for the door.

"No, wait," said Morgana in an annoyed tone, grabbing his arm before he could depart. "I'm sorry, go on."

"As I was saying," he frowned, "it isn't just the sudden surge of search activity that has Father worried. The Kingdom of Kent is also building up an army, larger than ever before. They've sunk as low as beckoning the recruitment of slave traders and thieves to grow in number. I've sent Sir Bedivere to intercept any word from our sources in Shallot and Benar. He is expected to return to Camelot within the next day or so with a number estimate of their army's soldiers."

"They're building up an army?" said Morgana dumbly, a bit breathless.

"Yes, and it gets worse," said Arthur. "Many of the knights have heard word from some informants that Cenred wishes to soil his hands in this mess as well. His men have been rumored to have been seen camped on the boarder of Kent time and again over the last month or so."

"Hengist and Horsa have never been ones to seek out allies unless they have something or at the very least _know_ something of value to them," said Morgana wisely, remembering her father's commentary on them a decade prior. "So if Cenred is involved then he must be useful to their cause in one way or another."

"Yes, and it is illogical to believe Cenred would seek out the Kingdom of Kent of all places as an ally for Escetia unless he has something to gain," said Arthur firmly, "or any kingdom for that matter. He is a notorious isolationist, even from the very villages in his kingdom. It's odd that the most well-known kings to exclude themselves from any external contact would suddenly become allies with one another."

"But what is there to gain for either of them?" asked Morgana.

"That's the question we need answered," said Arthur. "It is safe to say that Hengist and Horsa could and would benefit from Escetia's army. Because though Cenred's army is not nearly as well trained or as brutal as their own, there is no denying that the sheer size of his force is far greater than any other."

"Nearly every other kingdom in the land would have to join together to have any hope to defeat such a powerful adversary," said Morgana thoughtfully.

"Precisely," said Arthur. "Therefore, Father and I have organized an open forum between Camelot and some of the nobles from our current and potential allies. King Urien of Gore, King Pelles and Queen Mina of Corbenic, King Nentres and Queen Elaine of Garlot, King Bors of Gaunnes, and King Lot and Queen Morcada of Lothian are those invited to attend among our bordering allies as well."

"Gore?" said Morgana with an upward inflection. "Urien's kingdom neighbors Cornwall on the Isle of Eire. I've been there a number of times in my youth when accompanying my father on business, but why is Camelot seeking out such utterly foreign allies? And Lothian... isn't that in the Orkney region? That's even further away than Eire."

"Because we fear that it is only a matter of time before Kent and Escetia spread their wicked hands to foreign kingdoms," said Arthur. "We need to know that Camelot retains enough allied forces to keep our enemies at bay."

"There must be something else, Arthur, something you're not telling me," said Morgana anxiously. "You cannot tell me that Uther is this worked up over a potential conflict that he doesn't even know exists. It's preposterous."

"There is something else," said Arthur nervously.

"What is it?"

"I– I don't really understand it myself, but as soon as Father heard word... I'd never seen him so unnerved," said Arthur.

"And that's saying something considering it is Uther," said Morgana. "Whatever had him so upset?"

"It was more of a – _who_ – that a _what_ to be perfectly honest," said the prince. "A woman named Nimueh."

"Nimueh?"

"Well, _Queen_ Nimueh of Kent now I suppose," said Arthur. "She's just married King Hengist, and it's rumored she's behind the previous queen's sudden death – poison."

"So Uther knew of her before, I wager?"

"It seems so," Arthur nodded.

"What about her is so worrisome besides her apparent poisoning hobby?"

"Father knows her to have magic," said Arthur.

"Of course he does," said Morgana dryly, rolling her eyes.

"Dark magic, Morgana, the very darkest," he replied. "She's an immortal, a timeless being of the Old Religion. There is no telling what she is capable of and with forces like Hengist, Horsa and Cenred behind her... I cannot even bare to think of the consequences."

"So Uther thinks this Nimueh may have something to do with whatever Hengist and Horsa are searching for?" asked Morgana.

"He _fears_ it," said Arthur. "I think he knows, or at least suspects what it is they're after, but he seems to not be willing to entrust me with such classified information."

"That's ridiculous," said Morgana. "You are his son and just as worthy–"

"I am not worthy," said Arthur without thinking.

He closed his eyes in thought but kept silent while Morgana stared on at his forehead. After a minute of eerie quiet, Morgana extended her arm and placed a soft hand upon Arthur's cheek.

"You really believe that?" she asked gently.

"Respect has to be earned," he replied.

"Arthur–" she started.

"I should have dealt with Valiant on my own," he interrupted. "I shouldn't have raised my voice to my father in council. What little trust and respect he had in me is not nonexistent."

"Arthur, look at me," she said kindly but with determination. She put pressure onto Arthur's shoulder cheek until he finally turned to face her. "I've known you all my life. You're like my brother, my other half, and of all the people I've met in my life I can think of no one I would rather see rule Camelot. You will make a great king someday, and Uther knows that deep down as well as I do. Never let that man make you think that you are not worthy, because you are."

Arthur smiled feebly, releasing a half-laugh as he tossed his head back. He regained his composure and placed his bent index finger under Morgana's chin and tilted her face up to meet his eyes. He smiled in a sort of victorious way and gnawed on the inside of the cheek she had just released.

"You know, you can be almost bearable when you want to be," he teased, placing a platonic kiss on her forehead and pulled away to meet her gaze again. "Almost."

"Shove off," Morgana laughed, pushing his chest affectionately. "Just go see to your father, who I'm certain will give you all the top secret information you so desperately yearn for. I'll see you tomorrow after you defeat Valiant."

"Goodnight, milady," said Arthur mockingly, bowing in a less than princely manner.

"Goodnight, Prince Prat," she laughed, watching as he unlatched her lock. "Oh, and Arthur," she said swiftly, causing him to cease his motions and look at her. "Thank you."

"For what exactly?" he smirked, fearing he was about to walk into one of her snide remarks.

"For everything," she smiled feebly. "Thank you for the whole Valiant incident and for trusting me just now."

"It was nothing," he laughed lightly.

"And although I know you don't want to hear it – I am sorry, again," she said, continuing before Arthur could cut in. "Sometimes I forget how much you truly carry on your shoulders, and I think I only add to the weight you lug around so modestly."

"Oh, Morgana," Arthur smiled. "There is no other weight I'd rather slug over my shoulders than you."

"How gallant," Morgana teased, smiling despite herself as he closed the door behind him, sending her a final fleeting wink.

Morgana pressed her ear against the wooden frame, listening to Arthur's footsteps becoming quieter and quieter as he distanced himself from her chambers. As soon as she could no longer here his boots against the stone floor, Morgana peeked open the door. Just as she suspected, she spotted a blue eyed young servant slinking from behind a heavy maroon curtain and darting down the corridor. She knew Merlin would take the opportunity to eavesdrop, because she would have done the same thing if she were in his position. They were a lot alike, she and Merlin, and she was only beginning to realize just how much. Smiling to herself, Morgana closed the door quietly behind her, hoping Merlin would find away to help Arthur that was actually successful. All she could do was hope for the best and prepare for the worst now.

–

Merlin closed the door behind him a bit too loudly for Gaius's liking when he entered the court physician's chambers later than usual. Gaius had nearly reached a deep sleep when his apprentice stormed into his quarters like a bat out of hell. Merlin didn't mean to cause such a commotion, but he had a lot on his mind and understandably so. He had yet to perfect his spell to call out the snakes from Valiant's shield, and now he realized that Camelot was in an equal mess of trouble in foreign standards. Was this really his destiny, being the secret guardian of the kingdom, of Arthur? He didn't know how successful he'd be at such a task.

"For goodness sake, Merlin, could make any more of a racket?" asked Gaius, sitting up from his half-conscious state.

"Sorry, Gaius," he replied in a much more quiet manner than before. "I just have a lot on my mind."

"Something besides or in addition to the tournament final tomorrow?" asked Gaius, rubbing his eyes.

Merlin noticed a plate of bread and cheese that the physician had laid out for him. The young warlock looked appreciative to have something to settle his aching stomach, having missed a proper dinner. Merlin sat down on Gaius's bench and dug into his meal, looking over to the elderly man to reply.

"I sort of– let's say... overheard Arthur and Morgana in her chambers–" he began.

"Oh, Merlin, tell me they're not still up to that nonsense after all these years," said Gaius, cringing at the thought. "The Court is still talking about the broom closet incident."

"What?" said Merlin, slightly choking on his food as Gaius's sentiment sunk in. "No – oh – EW! No, I didn't overhear _that_. Have they been known to do _that_? Er– nevermind, don't tell me. I don't want to know the answer."

"What did you overhear then?" asked Gaius.

"I don't really know," said Merlin. "I just know it isn't good."

"You're going to have to do better than that," he replied.

"Hengist and Horsa's kingdom," said the young warlock.

"The Kingdom of Kent, yes," said Gaius, urging him to continue.

"Arthur said that Uther is worried they're after something," said Merlin, "like they're searching for something of great concern to Camelot. They've been building up an army apparently as well, conspiring with Escetia."

"Though that is disconcerting," he replied. "I would not worry to terribly much about Kent and Escetia. Their kingdoms are always up to something no good, but they typically fail in their efforts – whatever they may be – because they are not prone to seeking out allies."

"Yes, Arthur said that too," Merlin nodded, swallowing a healthy swig of water.

"See, nothing to fret about," said Gaius.

"But something has Uther unnerved," he said, "someone– some woman or some sorceress has recently married King Hengist and was rumored to have even poisoned his previous wife."

"Did you catch her name?" asked the physician, yawning.

"Um, Nimueh," said Merlin. "Yes, that's right. I suppose she's now _Queen_ Nimueh of Kent officially, however."

When Merlin told Gaius of the Everstone, the unique gem he'd seen around Morgana's neck, he'd decided Gaius could not have looked more disturbed. However, the expression on Gaius's face had shadowed his look from before. Gaius appeared terrified, shell shocked and mortified. Merlin eyed him curiously, wishing Gaius would snap out of his sudden rigidity.

"It can't be," he finally muttered, more to himself than to his apprentice.

"You know of her then?" said Merlin anxiously, earnestly.

"Oh, yes," said Gaius, "as do you."

"What?"

"You remember the story of the five creators of the Everstone, the creatures of the Old Religion I told you about?" said Gaius.

"Of course," Merlin nodded.

"And you also recall the traitor, the greedy, power hungry enchantress who caused the stone to be broken?"

"Yes–" Merlin began, gnawing on Gaius's words. "Oh, Gaius, you don't mean she's–."

"The very same," said Gaius.

"Where has she been for all these years?" asked Merlin.

"I haven't heard hide nor hair from her in two decades now," said Gaius, "but I wager she was back in Avalon – if she was allowed to return that is."

"Wait, you mean you saw her?" asked Merlin

"It's hard not to when you serve on the same court," said Gaius casually.

Merlin had been mindlessly plopping torn up pieces of bread in his mouth like a fascinated child, listening to a fairytale, and when Gaius finished his last sentence, Merlin choked on a piece of his food in shock.

"She was on Camelot's court?" Merlin gasped.

"And a close, personal friend of the king himself," said Gaius. "You know Uther didn't always despise magic as he does now."

"But i– if Nimueh was as evil as you say..." said Merlin, thoughtfully. "Why would Uther allow her in Camelot, let alone befriend her?"

"Uther never knew of her past, and I'll be honest, Merlin," said Gaius, "it didn't seem to matter then. She didn't resemble anything remotely wicked. In fact, she was kind, _genuinely_ kind. Not once did I doubt her loyalty and friendship. I believed her time in solitude, just her banishment in general, had changed her for the better. And I know, deep down, that if Ygraine had not passed and Uther had not sought out the deaths of all those with magic... she would have remained as uncorrupted and benevolent as before. Uther killed her own, and she wanted revenge. And I saw the look in her eye the night she escaped into the darkness, whatever beast had been sleeping inside her – had awoken."

Merlin swallowed hard.

"The only way to seek revenge on Camelot would be with a fierce army," said the young warlock nervously.

"A fierce _immortal_ army would be more Nimueh's style," said Gaius solemnly, "and to do that, she would need a weapon, more powerful than any other."

"You don't think–"

"I _fear_, Merlin," Gaius began slowly, poignantly even, "I fear that Morgana is in great danger."

"How would Nimueh even know Morgana is in possession of a piece of the Everstone?" he asked.

"Nimueh is a maker," said the elderly man. "Though she does not attain any measure of the stone she wielded, she was blessed with the gift of alchemy, and the power to detect the stone to which she created."

"But Morgana found the stone recently," said Merlin. "If she found it then that means–"

"It was inactive for some time," said Gaius. "The stone can only be detected when it is being warn, when someone of magic is controlling it."

"The only way for Nimueh to reclaim the Everstone would be..." Merlin paused, chewing on his next words, "to kill her, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, and I fear that is a strong possibility," said Gaius, "but Nimueh must also know that the Everstone was bonded on unity and it attains it's power from just that. If Nimueh was smart, and I know that she is, then she will attempt to persuade Morgana to help her, and whomever else wields pieces of the stone. You must remember, Merlin, that there are _four_ pieces in existence and Morgana is but _one_."

"Morgana would never betray Camelot," said Merlin.

"No, but I wouldn't be surprised if she questioned her loyalties to Uther," said Gaius. "Uther has killed and continues to kill those with magic, and she now knows that she is one of those magical beings. She could think that she has no other option but to kill or be killed."

"I won't let that happen," said Merlin firmly. "Nothing will happen to Arthur, Morgana or Camelot as long as I have breath in my body."

And Gaius knew, in his heart of hearts, that Merlin's words were true.

–

Morgana shot up from her slumber, the same terrible nightmare haunting her dreams. She saw Arthur, lying dead on the hard and unforgiving soil, a pool of blood seeping slowly through his chainmail. The screams from the crowd rang in her ears, causing her head to throb in pain. Her heart was pounding through her nightgown as Gwen entered her chambers, hoisting a tray of her mistress's breakfast in her hands. She glanced over at the shaky Morgana as she closed the door behind her, sending the raven-haired beauty a sympathetic expression. She set down the tray and hurried to Morgana's side, pulling her into a hug.

"Another nightmare?" asked Gwen kindly.

"It was so real," she breathed. "Arthur – dead."

"You must have faith, milady," said Gwen firmly. "Arthur is a skilled fighter, and I know he will come out victorious. You must believe in him too."

The young sorceress smiled fleetingly over the shoulder of her friend, tightening their embrace.

–

Gwen had just returned Morgana's breakfast tray to the kitchens, a tray her mistress had barely touched because of her nerves. She'd left Morgana's chambers after assisting her with her dress fastenings for the tournament and feast, leaving Morgana in an eerie state as she stared blankly out the window. She'd seen her mistress on edge before but nothing like this. She seemed jumpy, lost in her own thoughts, and she hadn't eaten a decent meal in what seemed like ages. Gwen hoped that after the tournament was over that Morgana would return to her usual bubbly self, but she thought better of it. She knew there was something else bothering Morgana, something that consumed her. Gwen wanted to press her mistress for information, but she knew that could only make the situation worse.

She had become lost in her own thoughts as she strode down the long castle corridors, on her way back to Morgana's chambers. She snapped back to reality as soon as she heard a familiar, typically irritating voice. Gwen tentatively peeked inside a nearby open doorway.

"You're even more incompetent than Merlin, Mylor," Arthur frowned, brushing him off and causing his metal shoulder cover to fall to the ground. Arthur was distracted and edgy from lack of sleep as he caught a glimpse of Morgana, staring distantly outside her open window from across the courtyard.

Mylor was not a fan of Arthur Pendragon and that was putting it lightly. Arthur and his moronic gang of merry men always sought out the gangly young servant to pick on when they were bored. He'd been used as a target, a footstool and countless other humiliating objects over his tenure as a castle servant. When Merlin was named as the prince's new personal servant, Mylor thought he would be spared any further humiliation thanks to Arthur. He was wrong. Arthur sacked Merlin which forced Mylor to pick up his slack. On a day that he would usually cut out early to go watch the tournament, Mylor was stuck dressing Arthur in his armor and failing miserably.

Gwen regally strode forward and knelt down to pick up the metal piece of armor, locking eyes with the kneeling Mylor. She sent him a gentle smile to imply her intentions, and he grinned thankfully in reply, disappearing out the door without Arthur noticing. She brushed off the shoulder protector and quietly approached the rigid postured prince. She carefully yet effectively latched on his missing piece of armor and then stepped before him to adjust his very crooked cape latch. It wasn't until then that Arthur noticed her, jumping slightly as soon as he realized Mylor had been replaced with Morgana's maid.

"Guinevere?" said Arthur.

"Mylor seemed to be having a bit of trouble," she smiled softly. "I figured you wouldn't mind someone a bit more experienced replacing him."

"Thank you," he nodded, smiling slightly.

She nodded in reply, snapping his cape in proper position. Gwen then surveyed the rest of the prince's armor, tightening and adjusting any ill placed pieces and fastenings. Arthur's eyes followed her as she seamlessly and meticulously fixed his chainmail. He decided her grace with armor was very impressive, like she was born to work with her hands in such a manner. Silence engulfed them for several minutes until Arthur decided he could no longer bare the thick uncomfortable air.

"Will you be watching the tournament?" asked the prince.

"Of course," she smiled gently. "I wouldn't dare miss your victory this afternoon."

"You think I will be victorious?" he smirked.

"I know you will," she said, handing him his helmet and giving him a once over glance to double check her work.

Arthur looked at Gwen, really looked. Sure, he'd known Gwen a very long time and seen her nearly every day, but he'd never truly seen her until now. Her skin appeared almost gold in the sunlight, and her eyes almost sparkled as hem memorized every golden speck in her chocolate brown irises. She was not exceptionally beautiful, not at all as gorgeous as the king's ward, but she attained a sort of subtle beauty that Arthur figured could be appreciated by many men. Then she smiled, flashing her perfect teeth and Arthur found it hard to breathe for a moment as her eyes lit up in a way he'd denied possible for any human being until now. He cleared his throat and blinked several times, smiling a bit awkwardly down at her.

"How could I not with such strong support?" he grinned.

–

Merlin had stayed up all night, all bloody night trying to master his spell. He was so frustrated, worried and exhausted that he could barely force the words from his chapped lips. He couldn't stop thinking, obsessing over the previous days' events as well as those he knew to be coming. It seemed like everyone was in danger, and he hoped this would not be a reoccurring habit. He sat on the ground, his head bobbing up and down as he repeated the spell over and over as his mouth became ever drier. Just as Merlin's eyelids began to close, he heard a vicious growl. Snapping his head upwards, Merlin came face to face with a live dog. He had transformed the statue into the creature that was carved in the stone. It snarled and barked at Merlin as he clambered to his feet and darted into the physician's chambers, slamming the door behind him just as the large dog leapt at him. The warlock peered out the nearby window, judging the sun's position for time. He was going to miss Arthur's match. He had to hurry before it was too late, so without another thought, Merlin was off for the arena.

–

Arthur chanced a glance at Morgana as she stared on eagerly, anxiously at him, nervously clutching the girth of her necklace. She sat beside Guinevere, who though appeared ill at ease, exhumed an undeniable air of regalement and confidence that made his entire frame relax only in the slightest. Arthur barely heard his father's grand introduction to the crowd as he stared on at the two women. Valiant glared at him with murderous eyes, determined and unyielding in his intentions. Arthur stared daggers back, reliving the undying urge to run him through after what he had done to Morgana, done to Sir Ewan, what he would do to Camelot. His teeth gritted, his muscles tensed, Arthur was ready for battle, ready to kill.

Merlin imagined he was attracting a decent amount of odd looks as he sprinted like the wind towards the tournament arena. He was wearing a less than suitable attire to be seen in public, even for servant standards. His hair flew in every which way as his unlaced shoe strings upon his raggedy boots did the same.

He was missing an intense match, as was to be expected between two mortal foes. Morgana and Gwen latched hands, squeezing each other ever tighter after every fierce blow. Valiant was enormous, his large frame towering the young prince. But Arthur made up for his unequal stature with his speed and impressive training and skill. However, it just wasn't enough this time as Valiant thrust forward and knocked Arthur's shield from his competent hands. The prince used his entire body to force Valiant up against the arena wall, causing the foreign knight's helmet to fall to the earth. Arthur, always the honorable opponent, took a step backwards and removed his own. It was a fair fight to the naïve onlookers.

Morgana was on the verge of screaming as she bottled up all of her anxiety within her chest, nearly shattering her maid's tiny hand in agony. Sir Leon, Sir Pellinor and the rest of the Camelot knights held their breath from behind the two women whilst Uther gripped the arms of his throne hard enough to splinter the wood. Just as the fighting resumed, Merlin rounded the dirt path to the arena, barreling by mindless bystanders. He arrived just as Valiant knocked Arthur's sword from his hands, rendering him defenseless. Morgana spotted the blue-eyed servant out of the corner of her eye. She had been wondering where the boy had been throughout the match.

As Arthur looked about frantically for any sort of weapon to protect himself, Merlin extended his palm. The king's ward quickly looked back onto Arthur and Valiant, she wouldn't have the power to tear her eyes away from the warlock if Gwen's grip hadn't tightened to a point of sheer pain. Snakes began to show themselves from Valiant's shield, just as Arthur and Merlin had claimed.

"Morgana," Gwen gasped, staring on at the helpless Arthur.

Not missing a beat, Morgana turned back and snatched up a sword from Sir Leon's holster.

"Arthur!" she shouted, catching his attention.

Morgana tossed the sword gracefully into Arthur's capable hands and with one fatal blow he had decapitated the magical reptiles. Then he thrust his blade through Valiant's abdomen.

"I guess I'll be going to the feast after all," said Arthur in the dying man's ear. Then he pulled his sword from Valiant's torso and watched the once intimidating figure crumble and die at his hand.

After bowing with a relieved expression to the cheering crowd, Arthur humbly departed out of the arena where he spotted his ex-manservant. Merlin was smiling like a giddy child as the prince approached. He stopped before Merlin, patting his shoulder.

"We were right," said Arthur as if he had known all along and didn't question Merlin's intentions once.

"Yeah, I guess we were," Merlin smiled.

"You know, I've been thinking about the whole sacking you thing..."

"Have you?" said Merlin with an upward inflection, knowing exactly what was coming.

"I may have been a bit rash when I sacked you," said Arthur pompously, "and it turns out that Mylor is even less qualified to dress me in my armor than you – if that is even possible."

"He must really be dreadful then," said Merlin, playing along for Arthur's sake.

"Yes, so I figure... if you'd like your job back... it's yours," said Arthur shyly, "it always was."

"Will there be a raise in my wages?" asked the warlock in jest.

"No," Arthur replied.

"A week's holiday?"

"Definitely not," said the prince.

"Well, I suppose I can live with that," said Merlin, grinning comically.

"Good, I've got a list of chores on my dresser awaiting you," said Arthur, turning to depart to change for the feast. "I'll need my boots shined, my sword sharpened, my robes pressed..."

Arthur affectionately slapped Merlin's shoulder as he left him standing alone against the arena's wall. The crowd began to depart the arena, filing through the exits, forcing Merlin against the stone wall. His grin never faded, that is until his eyes fell upon Morgana. She was standing alone in the stands, staring silently at Merlin as if he were a ghost. Merlin swallowed hard, feeling a bit exposed. He stared back at her for a moment before wordlessly slipping inside the faceless crowd and disappearing from sight.

Had Merlin used magic to force the snakes from the shield? Morgana didn't know for certain, but she felt as if everything was about to add up.

–

"My Lady," Arthur bowed, extending his bent arm to Morgana.

"My Champion," said Morgana, curtsying before accepting the prince's mannerly gesture.

It was a grand affair, there was no denying that fact. The Great Hall was decorated to perfection as the Lady and her Champion strode through the applauding lines of people. Countless candles gave the enchanting room an attractive dim glow as a sea of flowers exhumed a pleasurable aroma. Uther stood at the head table upon a dais, smiling proudly and applauding along side the other members of the court. He introduced the couple as the regally followed their path to the center of the hall. Arthur appeared tired but livelier than he'd been in days while Morgana looked lovely in her navy and maroon gown that had grown to become one of Arthur's favorites. The pair finally separated once they'd halted in the middle of the court, a coy smiles shared between the two.

"You're not disappointed that I'm escorting you rather than Valiant, are you?" asked Arthur sarcastically.

"Well, he is much more handsome–"

"Shut it," he laughed, tugging playfully on her hair.

"You are a charmer," she chuckled. Morgana caught a glance of Merlin from across the room as he balanced a tray of grapes, appearing rather bored. She wondered why anyone with magic would lower themselves to such monotonous work. Maybe her suspicions were wrong, only time would tell. "Did you apologize to Merlin for doubting him?"

"I rehired him if that's what you mean," said Arthur.

"I certainly wouldn't call that an apology," she smirked, "but I guess since it is you, that is the best he is going to get."

"Aren't you a peach," said Arthur, sending Morgana an irritatingly sardonic grin.

Just before Morgana began formulating a witty retort, she spotted the knight that Arthur had mentioned the previous evening. He approached Uther, looking rather tattered and exhausted, mud covering a significant amount of his attire. He held a slip of parchment in his hand that he passed on to the king, whispering fiercely away from any others who dare eavesdrop.

"It appears Sir Bedivere has returned," said Morgana, peering over Arthur's shoulder. The prince turned around, his arrogant grin fading. Without another word to Morgana, he strode off to speak to the two conversing men.

Merlin was about to fall asleep standing up. He hadn't slept in over a day, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into his bed. However, he knew an early morning awaited him serving Arthur. He was dreading another full day of chores and other mindless tasks. He'd positioned his back against the wall so he could at least somewhat relax during his serving duties, propping his tray upwards. No one had really approached him seeing as several plates of grapes and other assorted fruit were already placed upon the long tables of food. He had become so relaxed that he nearly dropped his platter to the floor when someone happened to pluck a violet grape from his possession.

"Enjoying the feast, Merlin?" asked Morgana, elegantly plopping the grape in between her wine stained lips.

"As much as a servant can, milady," he smiled, trying not to appear to eager to survey any opportunity to chance a glance at her necklace.

"Yes, Arthur told me he rehired you," said Morgana. "How utterly generous of him."

Merlin snorted a laugh.

"Where did Prince Arthur disappear to?" asked Merlin. "I thought he was your escort."

"He went to speak with his father in private," said Morgana, nodding to the pair of them with Sir Bedivere as she casually sipped on her goblet.

"Oh," said Merlin, "I'm sure he'll rush back to you."

Morgana released a hollow laugh.

"I wager he becomes distracted with a nameless lady of the court halfway back to my side," said Morgana, sipping her wine again.

"But he is your escort," said Merlin. "Aren't the two of you..."

"Oh, not you too," said Morgana lightly. "Don't tell me you've bought in to that nonsense the court spouts about Arthur and I?"

"It is not my place to say, milady," said Merlin.

"Merlin, I think our relationship is beyond formalities," she grinned. "You may speak to me as candidly you wish."

"I was just implying that you and Arthur are well... said to be married and–"

"I'd sooner marry a swine – though I think that would be a step up," she joked. "No, Merlin, it is unlikely such a rumor would prove to be true. Arthur and I– well, I love him, but I am not _in love_ with him. What we have is a whirlwind of lust with the occasional comic relief. If we were ever wedded then I fear we'd kill each other in a week's time. Besides, we are two perfectly good pawns for Uther to use in his wicked game of chess. We are potential bargaining chips to marry into allegiances with other kingdoms. I may get lucky enough to have the opportunity to choose the man I marry – if he is of the nobility that Uther sees fitting – but I am certain Arthur will be forced into an arranged marriage with some foreign princess sooner or later, but certainly not me."

Merlin smiled fleetingly, digesting her reply. He opened his mouth to reply, but he was abruptly interrupted by Arthur. He took a hasty hold of Morgana's arm and led her away from wandering ears. She seemed put off by his rude motions to drag her away from Merlin, crossing her arms and nearly spilling her drink with a smug look as soon as he released her.

"For a prince you are incredibly rude, do you realize that?" she snapped. "I was having a perfectly engaging conversation before you–"

"You were right," he smiled, ignoring her prior sentiments.

"I'm not surprised," she teased, "but about what this time?"

"Father, he confided in me," he beamed. "He shared the information from Sir Bedivere and with me, about everything. He must have some lingering feelings of respect for me."

"I told you so," she said as if addressing a small child. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to finish my conversation with Merlin."

"Aren't you anxious to know?"

"To know what exactly?"

"The device that Hengist, Horsa and Cenred are after?" said Arthur, obviously still high off his father's praise. "Aren't you curious to find out what it is?"

"Enlighten me," said Morgana dryly, twirling her wrist to create a spiral in her wine glass. She would have been more interested if Arthur wasn't acting like an unruly toddler.

"It's some sort of powerful magical weapon that Nimueh helped make ages ago or something like that," Arthur whispered fiercely. "It's called the Everstone."

Morgana's wine goblet fell from her grasp and onto the floor.

–

_**A/N: **__Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed last chapter. I truly appreciate it. I am so sorry that I took so long to update. I've been having a lot of family stuff going on as well as school related things happening as I near graduation. Please don't complain. I will try to be quicker to update from now on. I hope no one was too disappointed with this chapter. I know there wasn't a significant amount of one-on-one Merlin/Morgana contact though they did think/speak of one another a reasonable bit. The next chapter will make up for their lacking in this chapter._

_**PS: **__I hope I'm not piling too much plot on you guys at once. All you need to know is that Uther is suspicious of some neighboring kingdoms activities. Nimueh married a neighboring king and everyone appears to be in search of piecing together the Everstone. Morgana does not know of Merlin's magic but suspects he's hiding something to that nature. Gwen and Arthur are beginning to see each other in a different light._

_**PSS: **__Excuse typos for now._

_**Coming Soon:**__ Merlin and Morgana grow closer, the Dragon has a couple unexpected house guests, another barer of the Everstone is welcomed into Camelot, magical tomfoolery continues..._

–

_Review._


	8. Chapter 8: A Twist of Fate

_**Chapter Eight**_

–

_A Twist of Fate_

–

_One does evil enough when  
__One does nothing good._

–

The goblet fell and brought about a loud 'clang' when the metal struck the stone floor, causing several bystanders (including an already eavesdropping Merlin) to turn and look towards the source of the noise. Morgana involuntarily placed her open palm upon her abdomen, taking an erratic intake of breath. She stepped back and her shoulders slammed against the adjacent pillar. Arthur looked at her as if she'd just lost her head. Merlin instinctively rushed to the spill and knelt down to wipe up the mess and gather and excuse to continue to listen to the quiet exchange between the two sovereigns. Morgana blinked several times before she realized Arthur was asking her what was wrong. Everything was blurry as if she was anchored underwater. She shook her head and quickly knelt down beside Merlin to awkwardly try and help him clean up the mess she had made. Her new dress was now dowsed in red wine as she inelegantly wiped up the stain.

"I'm so sorry," she breathed frantically, trying to share Merlin's cloth to wipe up the red wine. Merlin turned his head and instantly locked eyes with Morgana. Her eyes pleaded to him though her words did quite the opposite. Finally, she looked away from the warlock as soon as Arthur knelt down beside her. "I'm suddenly not feeling well. I just– I'm so sorry."

"Are you alright?" asked Arthur with only mild concern, reaching over to grip Morgana's elbow and force her up from her hands and knees. Surrounding members of the court had begun to stare and whisper about the noble woman assisting a mere servant with such a demeaning chore. "Morgana – answer me."

"I'm fine, honestly," she said in an odd high pitched voice that sounded far from fine. "I just feel light headed all of the sudden – too much wine maybe. I think I'll just excuse myself and retire to my chambers. I'll be fine – yes, I'm fine, perfectly fine."

Without another word, Morgana lifted her skirts and darted as calmly as she could (which was a failed effort) out the Great Hall. Merlin attempted to slip back behind a nearby pillar with hopes of escaping Arthur's vision. He wanted to go after Morgana, but Arthur's keen eye prevented him from doing so.

"What in pity's sake has gotten in to her?" Arthur muttered, turning to Merlin who was trying to conceal his discomfort and anxiousness to leave the prince's presence.

"I don't know, sire," he replied. "Women are a curious species."

"As if you would know," Arthur snorted as if Merlin was nothing more than a pathetic school boy who could be sustained by the dwindling scent of a woman's perfume, "and Morgana is not like normal women. She's– she is different."

"Is that good or bad?" asked Merlin.

"I haven't decided yet," said Arthur, causing Merlin's eyes to rest intently on Arthur's unreadable expression. "Why don't you go and have Gaius bring her a draught of something to settle her nerves. I would see to her, but I fear my father would be less than pleased to see both Morgana and myself ducking out from a feast alone again."

Arthur paused after he turned his back, realizing he had just shared privileged information with his only newly rehired servant. He cringed momentarily and only turned his chin back to Merlin to retort, "I didn't mean that to sound so crass. Forget I said anything, Merlin, just see that Morgana receives her draught and return to your duties at the feast."

"Of course, sire," said Merlin, bowing and fighting the urge to vomit.

"And Merlin, tell her … tell her I – never mind," said Arthur quietly before turning away. "She knows."

Merlin turned his back and darted after the King's ward, slipping across the damp cobblestone as the faint lullaby of lutes and cheerful banter echoed throughout the castle. The young wizard did not bother stopping by the Physician's quarters to gather a draught he already knew would do no good. Merlin was determined path was set on Morgana's chambers. He had nearly slid directly by the ward's chamber if he had not gripped the doorframe as his boots began to skid. However, when Merlin had gathered his balance once again he soon realized that no one was witness to his clumsiness – Morgana's bed chamber was completely empty. Merlin's chest began to rise and fall faster than before. If Morgana had not sought solace in her chambers then where had she gone? A dozen scenarios ran through the young man's head. He was frightened that Morgana had ran off into the night, too frightened to come to terms with her gift in kingdom that mercilessly murdered thousands of her kind. Though Merlin did know one thing for sure about the Lady Morgana of Cornwall – she was certainly not a coward. She would not have abandoned her life so hastily. She had to be somewhere, somewhere in Camelot, and he was going to find her. And Merlin also knew exactly where to start.

–

Morgana's hands shook violently as she rushed up the steps to the North Tower. Her worst fear had been confirmed. The stone around her neck would be her doom. An evil beyond her wildest nightmares hung between her breasts, welcoming a threat unlike any other into her home and the bedsides of those she loved most. She had done this. It was her fault. If she would have minded her own business none of this would have happened. She should have left the bloody dagger in the back of the chair where she found it. She could kick herself for being such a foolish child. Uther had warned her that her reckless curiosity would get the better of her someday, and he had the last laugh in the worst of ways. Morgana reached an illuminated torch that lit a dim pathway into her favorite location in all of Camelot – the Cave of ArMor. She had not visited the tower since she had given Merlin a lesson in swords play, and she wondered if Merlin could say the same.

"Damn," she muttered, stepping on the hem of her skirt and ripping it to the front of her inner thigh as she climbed the final few steps.

She stumbled forward, falling to her hands and knees as the torch flew across the cobblestone floor. She hurried to her feet again, her new dress more sullied than before. Morgana slammed the door behind her and latched the lock, lifting the torch from the floor and sliding it into the wall's holster. Morgana imagined she looked a mess. Her dress was torn and filthy; her hair remaining only half in her styled bun, strangled tears fell from her emerald eyes. Morgana was never one to cry, not even as a child. She was infamous for keeping a stiff upper lip when she scraped her knee or even broke a bone. By the time she reached her tenth year, Morgana had suffered more pain and seen more horrible sights than most would in two lifetimes. There was little that could shake the King's ward to tears now but the confirmation of her magical abilities had done just that.

Morgana had not grown-up hating magic nor had she always feared it. What Morgana did hate and did fear was Uther's beliefs and judgments to magic. She would surely suffer at his hand as so many had before her and so many would long after she was gone. Morgana sat on the windowsill overlooking the kingdom. The night had a chill in the air as autumn was quickly approaching but the lights of the city and the stars above created an ambiance that would usually take her breath away. She could not imagine never seeing such a sight again, the mere thought caused her body to quiver. She reached up and clutched her mouth with her open palm, her knees bent against her chest.

Her mind wandered to Arthur's words. Hengist and Horsa's kingdom was powerful and full of rage and now an even more immortal foe had allied her to them. Without any ill intent, Morgana had potentially brought on the end of Camelot as she knew it. If she had only left the dagger alone none of this would have happened…

"My Lady?" a distant and muffled voice called. "Are you up there?"

Morgana reached for the torch she had only just hung in place upon the wall. She was in no state to see anyone. She was on edge, dangerous even and she could not bear the idea of any form of human contact. Quickly, Morgana darted towards the bookshelf leading into a secret passage. A knock on the door behind her hummed in her ears as she quietly slipped out of sight and down the steps deep into the interior of the castle, leaving Merlin to look on to a dark and utterly empty room.

She rushed down the carved staircase into the far reaches of the castle. Her footsteps echoed against the moist stone walls. Morgana reached the end far sooner than she had hoped; leaving her with two choices she had been faced with many times before. She could sneak into Arthur's chambers which was something she wanted to avoid at the moment. However, her second option could hardly be considered an option at all. She had attempted to open the locked door on several occasions to no avail. Morgana heaved a heavy sigh of disdain just before a dim light illuminated the dark hall – someone was following her. Morgana panicked, gripping the door handle with all her might. The door was wedged shut as it always was. Footsteps echoed in the distance as the torch light grew ever brighter. Morgana gripped the door handle once more, closing her eyes and begging the heavens for the door to unlock just before slamming her shoulder into the wooden entrance. No sooner had Morgana made her silent prayer did she plummeted through the previously immovable door. She fell face first into sheer darkness, sliding most ungracefully down some sort of a slide rather than a staircase all the while collecting mud and some sort of a mold mixture on her backside. The door slammed shut behind her, locking itself in place again. She was so shocked to be plummeting into the unknown catacombs beneath the castle that she didn't have time to scream. Morgana took a deep intake of breath, extending her arms in a failed attempt to slow her slide into the darkness.

The hole must have reached all the way to the earth's core, Morgana decided. She was certain that death would be the ultimate end to this fall, it had to be. She was staring upward as she toppled into the darkness, the torchlight disappearing after each passing second as Morgana dropped deeper and deeper beneath the castle. She was unable to make a sound at all considering her stomach was stuck inside her throat, virtually choking her. With a sudden jolt, Morgana abruptly landed on a rock hard surface at the end of the tunnel. She struck the ground with such a speed that she skidded several feet before finally coming to a halt and losing consciousness. Morgana was quite certain she was indeed dead. There was no logical way for her to have survived such a lethal fall, no chance at all.

She was unconscious for well over two hours though it felt like an unending blackness to Morgana, unaware if she'd been asleep for seconds or decades. However, her eyelids did finally open, vision blurred. She blinked several times and as she did so, her ears began to clear at the same haste as her vision. She was lying on her back, staring up at an extraordinarily high stone ceiling that she did not dream to be feasible if she had not seen it with her own two eyes. The hay and grass, or whatever it was, that she was resting upon was so soft and comfortable that she deducted that the texture must be used as a bed or a nest of some kind. She slowly combed her slender fingers through the hay and grass, teasing her senses. She imagined that a life in such a position would be rather appeasing if she wasn't potentially stuck there for eternity that is.

Morgana slowly propped herself up upon her hands and knees. Blood ran down the back of her neck from the gash upon the back of her skull. Her head ached so horribly that she wondered how her cranium was not completely cracked in half. She cradled her head against her and rubbed her eyes. It was then that she noticed a large scaly stone of some sort. It was snuggled closely against the edge of whatever it was she had landed in. Upon stronger consideration the rock appeared to be moving. Morgana slowly, cautiously took to her feet. She stumbled from tripping over the shambled cloth of her dress. When she reached the enormous hill of odd rock she extended her palm to touch it. It felt warm, almost hot, and it was indeed moving in a rhythmic pattern – as if it was breathing or possibly even snoring. Then, the rock moved, it moved and a face appeared. The rock formation adjusted its position and it took no time at all for Morgana to realize that she had fallen into the nest of a large, ferocious, blood thirsty dragon.

She covered her mouth to muffle her bloodcurdling scream. She staggered backwards, falling on her backside and proceeding to push herself backwards. She conceded to crawl into the furthest corner of the nest, pulled her legs against her chest and buried her head between her knees. She could feel the dragon nearing her, the stone shook after ever step. Finally, the movement ceased and Morgana lifted her head. The dragon sat right before her, its face leveraged straight in front of hers, feeling its fire-hot breath against her skin. The beast wore a surprised expression at the sight of her.

"What are _you_ doing here?" the dragon spoke in a slow droll, utter disgust apparent in his tone.

"There is no sign of her in the East Wing," called Prince Arthur to his father, gripping his sword as he darted down the corridor to meet the king.

"Have the guards searched the stables?" Uther asked desperately, clutching his cape.

"As we speak," said Arthur.

The Prince had always been trained to keep a cool and collected head when he was under pressure. He was taught to never be afraid or fear the unknown, but he was frightened now, terrified even. Morgana had been acting strange lately, something had her unnerved and he was too consumed with his own affairs to find out the root of her disconcert. She had run off to her chambers and according to Merlin (and a keen inspection of her quarters), had disappeared into the night. Arthur and Morgana had played countless games of hide-and-seek in their youth and Morgana had always been a rubbish hider; this fact alluding to Arthur that this situation was dire. His father was a wreck. He had been pacing a hole in the floor for two hours, too distressed to leave his spot outside of Morgana's chambers in case of the unlikely event of her willing return. Merlin's hasty footsteps attracted the king's attention as he approached the two sovereigns, both sporting eager expressions for good news. They would be sorely disappointed.

"There's no sign of her in the stables," said Merlin, blatantly out of breath. "All horses are accounted for as well."

"And they're still searching the lower town?" asked Uther, jerking his neck to see his son.

"Yes," said Arthur.

"Search the forest's edge," said the king, "look for any sign of her."

"Yes, father," said Arthur, gripping Merlin's shoulder to lead him back to the main hall. The two young men halted their steps and looked around for the nearest guard that wasn't already sprinting around the castle.

"I know she's still in the castle," said Merlin quietly as Arthur frantically looked around for a guard to track down.

"And why do you say that?" asked Arthur, slowing down his racing mind to focus his attention on Merlin.

"A feeling," said Merlin, realizing how idiotic he must have sounded.

Arthur swallowed hard and surveyed his newly rehired manservant. The boy's chest was racing, his hair askew and his eyes as full of worry and concern as the prince himself. Arthur was trained in the art of reading people, knowing what makes them tick, determining the good from the evil. He could tell that Merlin, though an utter buffoon, had a pure heart. His concern and fear for Morgana's safety was genuine, and that fact both pleased and bothered Arthur for multiple reasons he had no time to unearth now.

"Me too," he confessed, leaving the young warlock appearing relieved. "She wouldn't have left the castle without telling me. You mentioned that you thought you heard someone in the North Tower–"

"The guards searched the North Tower and found nothing," said Merlin.

"But how sure were you that Morgana was up there?" asked Arthur firmly.

"I'm certain," said Merlin with unwavering confidence.

"Then let's go," said Arthur, yanking Merlin by the elbow and leading him to the North Tower.

"The Lady Morgana of Cornwall in _my_ crypt," the beast proclaimed in a ferocious roar. Morgana's heart flew into her mouth as she bent her knees closer against her chest and buried her head deeper behind her forearms. She looked like a small, frightened child – a far cry from the powerful demon of a witch the Great Dragon had once prophesized. She was furiously shaking, trembling in fear of the giant animal of the Old Religion. The Great Dragon leaned in close to the shivering young woman, sniffing at her scent like a predator inhaling the stench of an abandoned carcass. "What a truly unpleasant surprise."

"Y-You know my name?" Morgana stuttered, peeking out from her arms ever so slightly.

"I know much more of you than _just _your name, stupid girl," said the dragon, rolling its enormous yellow eyes as it settled into a more comfortable position. "I know your past, your present and most importantly – I know of your future."

Morgana had heard horrible, distasteful rumors that Uther kept monsters far beneath the castle walls, but she never believed them – perhaps she didn't want to. There was no denying the truth now, however. Uther had kept this animal for longer than her lifetime, and perchance it would remain long after it would end.

"What do you mean?" she whimpered, revealing only her eyes from behind her forearms.

"_I mean_, that the bards will sing tales of your villainy and of your hate," it breathed. "You are fated for a lifetime of treachery and bloodshed, and preordained to bring an end to the reign of the Once and Future King Arthur Pendragon. You will watch alone as Camelot burns upon your pyre."

"I would never betray Camelot," said Morgana sheepishly, "and I would never do anything hurt Arthur – I love him."

"Loyalties change," said the Great Dragon.

"Mine do not," she replied.

"Someday, years from now, you will discover that what lies beneath your skin is the source of Uther's hatred," said the beast. "You will–"

"Because I have magic?" she asked, lifting her head from her knees.

The Great Dragon surveyed her, appearing quite shocked at her previous statement. He had not anticipated the Lady Morgana of Cornwall to be aware of her magical abilities so early. The Old Religion prophesized such a magical awakening years from now and this surprised Great Dragon, and being surprised was not something the ancient beast was accustomed to. If he had brows to raise then that would be what he did, tilting his head to the side.

"How do you know that?"

"How does one know the sky is blue?" she asked. "I have witnessed it."

"You're not meant to–"

"How can I not be meant for something?" she asked, confidence growing ever so slightly. "Our destinies are not certain. Why do you think you know more about me than I do?"

"I have lived for thousands of years," it began. "I am of the Old Religion, more powerful than you could even begin to fathom, and I know what is fated for my kin."

"I—I don't understand," she said.

"What do you find so bewildering, stupid girl?"

"Everything," she whispered, shifting in her seat. Morgana slowly lowered her arms from her face to make perfect eye contact with the ancient creature. She narrowed her gaze and took to her feet, dusting off her frayed skirts to no avail before taking one defiant step forward. Though the young royal was small in stature, she appeared tall with poise. Her chest rose and fell with great haste as her necklace fell outside of her gown from between her breasts. The Great Dragon's eyes widened at the sight of the now illuminated stone, but Morgana did not notice as she was too consumed with controlling her quaking voice. "I choose my own destiny."

"Where did you find that?" the Great Dragon ogled.

Morgana looked down and quickly gripped the Everstone in both hands before looking up at the beast again, "It found me."

"That is not possible," said the Dragon.

The enormous creature shook its enormous head, pacing back and forth while Morgana anxiously observed, looking down every few seconds to peer at the glowing stone within her grasp. Large clouds of smoke escaped the dragon's nostrils as he muttered incoherent nonsense to himself. Morgana's overwhelming terror was beginning to subside as bewilderment took its place. In one night Morgana had realized the stone around her neck could lead to the destruction of not only Camelot but humanity, fallen down a catacomb, met a talking dragon and now was being told that she was destined to be a villainous witch. Prior to the feast, Morgana anticipated the most potential excitement she would witness was Arthur returning to her bed chamber.

"Are you alright?" she asked and instantly felt quite stupid for doing so.

The Great Dragon ceased his strides and peered down at the raven-haired beauty with an expression of sheer confusion.

"You are not what I expected," it said.

"Is that good or bad?" she asked.

"I don't know," it replied slowly.

"I thought you knew everything," she smirked, immediately regretting her sarcastic instinct.

"Do not test me, girl," it replied. "Do you even know what you hold between your feeble hands?"

"It's part of the Everstone," she said. "I took this dagger left behind by this old sorceress who tried to kill Arthur after Uther killed her son for using magic. All I did was touch the stone and it instantly took on a life of its own and now I can't get the damned thing from around my neck. And I know that the witch Nimueh is responsible for the stone's deconstructed and now she's mated up with Hengist and Horsa's kingdom which will produce no good, and I hold a piece of what she needs to commit what will undoubtedly be great acts of evil."

"And how is it that you know all that?" it inquired.

"I can read," she said.

"And what are you going to do about all your read knowledge?" asked the Great Dragon.

"I don't know," she said, "I don't know yet."

"You asked me if I thought it was a good or a bad thing for you to be 'not what I expected,'" it said. "What you do with what you know from now on is how I will decide that. You can either prevent a great evil or become one."

"I don't know what to do," she said a bit frantically. "I'm alone–"

"Seek out the warlock," said the Great Dragon. "Find Emrys."

"Emrys," said Morgana with an upward inflection. "Who is Emrys?"

"Why don't read about him?" it smirked. "You seem to be good at that."

"But–"

"But nothing, stupid girl," the Great Dragon said. "If you want to prove me wrong, prove you alone control your own destiny then your mission begins now."

"This doesn't make sense," said Morgana, shaking her head slowly.

"In time, young priestess, everything will," said Dragon smirked, ascending into blackness.

–

She reached the top of the slide that led her deep in to the catacombs after what seemed like an eternity. She was covered head-to-toe in soot, dirt and blood. She gripped the corridor steps, out of breath and delirious. She stumbled over her torn skirts while she managed to reach the top of the hidden hallway, falling from sheer exhaustion out of the secret entrance within the North Tower.

"Morgana– oh god," said Arthur, sprinting into the North Tower before Merlin, sliding on his knees before until he reached her limp frame.

Merlin looked quite ill. All of the color had faded from his face at the sight of Morgana and the blood leaking for the gash on the back of her head. He couldn't stand the idea of anything happening to her. He watched in silence as Arthur gently tapped Morgana's cheeks to wake her. Arthur lifted the king's ward in to his arms and took to his feet. Morgana opened her eyes slightly, her head resting under Arthur's chin. Merlin met her emerald green gaze.

Morgana opened her lips and mouthed one single word that only Merlin could see.

"Emrys."

–

_**A/N:**__ It's been 2 years since I've updated. That's unacceptable. Won't happen again. Your support means the world to me. Thank you for all your wonderful comments. I will do comment shout outs next chapter which will be soon:) _

_**PS:**__ Please excuse my typos. I'm sure there are a million. I'll fix them ASAP._

_**Coming Soon: **__Morgana awakes determined to find Emerys, __Merlin and Morgana grow closer, another barer of the Everstone is welcomed into Camelot, magical tomfoolery continues..._

–

_**Review.**_


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